Exeunt
by Crowlet
Summary: Evie, my version of, left her old life to become a gnoll-kicking mercenary. Of course, everything goes right before it goes spectacularly wrong. In battle and in life... Spoilers for Ainle, Love triangle/square. Updated sporadically. AU.
1. Ellis' Fire

Title: Exeunt

Fay. Or Evie leFay. Whichever it used to be, it isn't now. Not anymore. When the Crimson Blades asked for recruits' names I answered with Crow. I suppose there's not much point to hiding my past... Beside my obvious interests in arcane magic, there wasn't much to hide. Who would care to know the trivial things that made me who I am? You would need to have a lot of time on your hands and zero worries to pick at normal people's pasts. That's probably why I like Shayla. We don't ask each other questions, but if we feel like divulging something intimate about ourselves we will.

Maybe a part of it **is** hiding or running from something. But one reason why I chose a new identity is that I wanted to birth myself anew. A new me, a better me, who from then on never ran away and stood up to whatever ugly bastard who stood in her way.

I felt I had finally achieved that. As I made leaps and bounds in my magical learning from what I gleamed off Brynn and books, I grew care free and thirsty for adventure.

**(( Ellis' Fire ))**

Things I should say, things I could say, and things I might actually say... They're all swirling, fuelled by my nervous energy, and shooting in diametrically opposed directions off my cranium like the sparks of my Magic. Brynn is wrong; I can understand what he says, well, the gist of what he bothers to tell me. But this isn't about magic... This is me, and the chaos in my mind hurts. But even if I take the kind of focus I apply to magic and try to fit it to the situation I have here, it just hurts me more. The truth is that there are multiple ways to go about responding to Gwynn's desperate, outraged shouts right now. But nothing I could say would ease or change the fact of the matter... Ellis is dead, and it is my fault. There is nothing I can do to change that.

Oh god... I swallow the ill feeling threatening to jettison off its anchored port in my stomach—thinking of boats all of a sudden makes it worse, however. I visibly wince.

I and my one other companion had arrived late and watched him get brutally beat and gutted. I was so shocked at the absolute, merciless savagery of the enemy that I had wasted precious time that I could have used to shorten the distance between me and... damn it. _"Shit, that's..." "_**_ELLIS! NO!_**_"_ The memories are still fresh in my mind, but I must not falter or show weakness. _"Lann, he's not moving. Why isn't he moving, Lann?" "Crow... Crow, stop. No amount of ergs we stuff in him... or-or healing corona will bring him back. He's gone—I'm sorry, Crow. We were too late." "No... I can't... I can't go back without... I can't..." _ If it weren't for Lann's strong, moral foundation, I probably wouldn't have even come back at all. But we spent a bit of time recuperating, not only physically, but emotionally. The bitter warmth and salty tears as we held each other, needing that physical comfort to assure us both that someone was there.

Gwynn's waiting for you to say something. She's not done yelling at you yet. I snap myself out of it before I start appearing catatonic.

The atmosphere in the Mercenary Outpost has become uncomfortably thick and tense. No one dares speak. Out of the corner of my eyes—my eyes have not left Gwynn's since she approached—I could see Ceara, other mercenaries, hell even the most annoying guy in town glancing uncertainly between the two of us.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry I wasn't fast enough, not strong enough." I unconsciously cradle the arm I had injured, broken and burned in the fight. "I'm sorry for not being smart enough, as I should've realized sooner what Ellis was getting into with his investigation." I search the crowd for Lann, but he's not there. He's probably mending the heavy injuries he sustained as well—certainly his were worse than mine. "I'm also sorry for bringing danger to my comrades for my inadequacies."

I end it sounding diplomatic enough, but that doesn't match the wide and watery eyes that stare unseeingly ahead. I don't quite pay attention to the world around me anymore as Aodhan interrupts and Gwynn storms off in a tempest of sorrow and anger. Captain Aodhan disperses the crowd of onlookers and turns to me saying something about the Inn, so I leave the Mercenary Outpost as well. In a very different manner to the previous departure, I exit with a light and smooth step, like a ghost. People avoid me.

Lann is at the inn, I belatedly remember, just as I enter the doorway and see Tieve tending to a partially-aware Lann. Having shared an intimate moment already with Lann while a hysterical mess, I don't particularly feel like making a mess of myself again at the moment. For one, Tieve's here, and Lann needs to seriously be looked at—oh, hell, so do I. Though it's not as noticeable, and for some reason I find myself hiding it under the dark long sleeves of my Broken Ash robe (which is actually now broken, ironically). Have I mentioned I love this robe? Brynn is a genius. I may ask him to craft me spares.

I'm not being sarcastic or mad. I'm serious. It kept together for some of the worse hits, and the sleeves were still intact! Only the front was ripped open, though for decency's sake I did a quick repair before going to the Mercenary Outpost to report.

My eyes drift to the topless Lann laying on the bed, and to his heavily bandaged body. The bruises alone are enough to convince me that now is not the time to talk. He needs to sleep that kind of injury off. With my silent examination over with, I avert my gaze to Tieve, who interprets my look to be an enquiry.

She supplies her prognosis that agrees with mine, "The worst of his injuries have been taken care of. All he needs is to rest and take it easy for a while." Her face is sombre, but still beautiful, a look that always had me wanting to cheer her up in the past. "Are you alright, Crow?"

"Yes...thank you, Tieve." I reply with a wan smile. "I'll be back in a bit."

A groan escapes the bed Lann is on, and there is some hasty shifting as he attempts to sit up. "Crow-" But Tieve gently presses him back down, and he complies out of pain. "Wait!"

I gesture haphazardly in his direction as I quickly _exeunt._


	2. Brynn, the…

**(( Brynn ... ))**

Okay, so going to Brynn might not be one of my brightest ideas. It's not like I expected pity from a guy who only seems to care about Tieve and magic. What I definitely wouldn't be surprised to see is his exasperated sigh and frown as he tells me to _stop bothering him_ and to _take care of my injuries already_. But I'm not ready to face everyone yet by getting mended at the Mercenary Outpost, and I feel too guilty already to burden Tieve with asking for her help. Besides... Brynn is a genius. As if that explains the reason for everything, I step cautiously through the door. I quietly analyze the intelligent mess of things he's up to today, noting that I do not see the person I specifically came to see. I open my mouth and am about to call for him when—

"-what are you doing here." Brynn's flat, unwelcoming voice butts in from beside me. I bristle in surprise.

I feel my confidence sifting away slowly like sand instead of the rock I thought it was. Brynn is like that, I remind myself, absolutely magical. Before my confidence is all gone from me, I bolster myself as I try to explain the reason why I am here, the reason even myself has trouble putting into words. Feeling a headache coming on, I scramble through my chaotic trainwreck of thoughts for an excuse to waste his time. C'mon Evie, I mean Crow, you had this a second ago.

"I want to make a robe," flies out of my mouth casually.

I lean back against the door frame, quirking a smile at him that is brighter than I feel. I usually smile when I ask him for stuff, right? Yeah, it so annoys him.

Brynn's right eyebrow arcs in question. "Another one?"

Being the smart blond he is, he looks me up and down with now narrowed eyes. Confidence. Slipping.

I cough a bit, hoping to draw his attention away as I follow up my excuse. "Yep! So I have one to wear if the other one, say, becomes so irreparably charred and broken that it becomes indecent to wear in public. These things are amazingly resilient though. You must be a crafting genius." I pretend to dismiss the prod to his ego at the end of my reasoning.

I expect him to be suspicious yet still turn to make me another one... So imagine my surprise when his face becomes troubled and he sighs, "Come in, sit down."

The baffled look on my face must show, because he rolls his eyes and the familiar, scolding tone escapes him "You forget I deal with you mercenaries all the time. As in Lann, for instance. Always asking for health potions while pretending to not be affected by his last mission."

"Now that you mention it, I have noticed he gets hurt a lot, and still manages to appear fine in no time..." I mused aloud, a bit entertained. "Didn't think he dopes up on health pots."

"Yes, with the amount of potions Lann drinks, you'd swear it was a vital part of his every meal."

Is that a joke I hear?

As if realizing what is happening (a friendly atmosphere, that is), his face becomes strictly schooled again and he crosses his arms. I promptly seek and sit on an empty chair. Brynn thoughtfully closes the door.

"Alright, to assess your injury, you realize you'll need to remove your robe.." He is turned away as he says this, rifling through a drawer for things, so he shouldn't notice my slight flush nonetheless at the sensible statement.

Becoming indecent during battle is one thing, as you don't have time to gawk at your comrades' increasingly alarming states of undress, but this is a bit more self-conscious as it gives me an uncomfortable amount of free time to think about how I'm topless in Brynn's house alone with the man himself. It's not like I **fancy** him or on the other hand never thought he was particularly attractive, but it is awkward because—because this is _Brynn!_ **_Brynn_** is not a very friendly person. He does not _desire your company,_ and you _intrude in his work_. Sure, you help him with his experiments sometimes by getting him what he needs, and in return he teaches you things or rewards you. But that can barely be called 'socializing'. The most 'socializing' I have ever had with him is that hilariously awkward tea party Tieve somehow convinced him to have. But I know his real character. He may be blond and smart and maybe look a little attractive with his deep, serious eyes... but he still acts like a smart-ass jerk.

Get over it, Evie. Get over it. You came to him for help, not for awkward fantasies.

In the end I simply shrug off the black robe in a swift movement and it falls to the floor. I note Brynn's eyes following its movements. I would pick it up, but as soon as it's off we both can see what's restricting my movements.

Yes, that disgustingly red and charred thing is a part of me. If I hadn't been cringing already from the sight of my arm I would be now at the darkening look on Brynn's face. He purses his lips but he doesn't say anything. Yet. He keeps me in anxiety as he quietly applies a few mysterious potions to the wound, dabs at it, adds something else, and finally wraps it up gently. Ahh, chemist hands. He has steady, caring hands. Even if he is a madman in the making, you can trust him for experiments, tea, and first aid.

He finally speaks up, and his face still has that cross frown, though his voice is kept at a respectful murmur in consideration to what I've been through (at least I'd like to think it was sympathy). "When you can move well again, Miss Crow, I insist you study the art of Mana Amber."

I pout as I scrounge my memory for where I might've heard that before... "From the name, it almost sounds like making ergs, but I know it can't be that."

"It appears similar. You would be using the same concept you see in your transformation erg skill, except applying it as a shield to protect your body. It is more difficult to accomplish as you are not using something that already has mass and material to convert, but crystallizing your own mana on the air, to hold up your shield." Brynn stops, eyeing me to see if he had lost me in his explanation.

I nod in understanding. "I can imagine that would be more difficult, especially since the transformation ergs are made from small items. Do you think I can manage that?"

I may have impressed him a bit. I dare to gain a little bit of confidence back.

He nods, before saying, "It takes quite a bit of mana to keep up, so you'll be exhausted seconds after using it." His gaze and fingers graze the injury on my arm... I watch his movements, curiously... he moves onto other injuries, motioning at me to turn my back to him.

I try not to squeal at his cold hands on my back. I'm suddenly reminded I'm half-naked again. Good news is I suppressed the squeal successfully, but the shiver still escapes. Brynn pauses, and my cheeks redden with embarrassment. After a tense moment of wondering what he's thinking, he continues on addressing my wounds as if nothing happened.

Eventually, he's done. I warily rotate/flex my arm, then stand up and stretch with my arms reaching for the ceiling. I'd been sitting for a while~ It feels great to be able to move without pain again! I turn my head suddenly to Brynn, intending to earnestly (and almost Clodagh-like-cheerily) thank him, only to have it die in my throat as I catch him with an interesting reaction... His head was turned away, but there was the faintest darkening in his cheeks... Maybe I exposed something inappropriate? I look down at myself, examining my—ahem, white underlies—for any _whoops_. But I seem fine. Not sure what he saw, then. It's making me kind of paranoid. So I look around for my earlier discarded top.

"Here." He holds my robe up, and I almost think he's going to be a gentleman and help me put it on, until he drops it into my arms. "You're not a paraplegic." He reasons, as if I'd expected him to be nice in the first place.

Oh well, this is better anyway. Brynn being a gentleman would kind of creep me out anyhow.

Despite it all, the awkwardness, the bandaging, cold hands, and _god his annoying tone_, I still find myself smiling gratefully at him. "You are brilliant. Really, **thank you**." I stress the last two words, and then bite my lip, feeling as if there was more I should've/could've/hadn't said.

He only nods, this thoughtful look in his eyes as he stares at me. Suddenly, he seems to startle as he remembers what he was working on before, and heads to a stack of papers at a table. "I've lost quite a bit of time today. Please leave the door open on your way out..."

I feel so relieved for some reason, I could almost skip out the door. What did he _put_ in those potions? I glance over my shoulder at the hardworking, focused Brynn pouring over sheets upon sheets of handwritten notes. There's something appealing, no matter what I or anyone else may say about him, about a man dedicated to his craft.

"Oh, and do take care to not wind up here with yet another injury sustained. I am not your nurse."

I choke at the thought, but don't dare make a sound as I exit.

**(( ... the Nurse. ))**


	3. Royal Inquiry

I have _readers?_ Oh, this is so exciting! I'll try my best!

* * *

><p>(( ..Royal Inquiry.. ))<p>

A day or two had passed since returning from the horrendous mission. Life was relaxed and about taking care of the things outside of battle. That included but was not limited to restocking supplies, distributing materials looted from missions to whom Lann and I owed. I still have an armour piece to deliver to Fenella currently taking residence at the General Shop. Clodagh also for some reason convinced me to collect yet another outfit... Another skirt that reveals my long but pale legs. Blood Silk, she called it. I rub my knees together self-consciously. For all the time I spend outside and near fires, you would expect me to tan a bit... But I'm still as pale as snow.

I think back to the booty shorts outfit Clodagh made me wear to Hoarfrost Hollow. I got pneumonia after the first mission there wearing it, and I hadn't deigned to return until Tieve lent me some thick stockings and a long-sleeved shirt to layer under the ridiculous outfit that Clodagh made me promise to wear. Not to mention the disturbing looks the other mercenaries and Lann gave me. Suddenly everyone wanted to come with me to Hoarfrost Hollow... I feel awkward reviewing that memory.

"Bless your fashionista heart, Clodagh, but you're a psycho." I whine, this time fiddling with the top. "Ooh... but I'm liking this cape..."

In a spontaneous spur of immaturity I put my legs to good use as I bolt forward from the General Shop. My cape, as light as a feather, easily glides behind me with a satisfying sound resembling a flag in the wind or laundry out to dry. _Wheeeeee! I'm a superhero!_ What's a superhero? A hero that is super, of course. Actually, no, I lie, I'm not sure what it is. It sounds appropriate though.

I get tired of running and my speed gradually lessens to a stop. I wasn't really paying attention to where I was going, but I recognize where I am. I must've zoom-zoomed my way right out of Colhen into the fields outside. Embarrassed at being so absorbed in 'playing' to not having realized that, I scratch my cheek with a blush. I might as well bring back a souvenir, though, right? I look around at the vast greenery that blesses us. It's really humbling to see so many trees, flowers, and... sheep. _I could shear some sheep. Clodagh might appreciate the effort to get her cloth._ I don't have a knife on me, however. Instead I focus on the ground, looking for herbs or interesting plants... I don't know what many herbs look like beside the rare ones I come across in missions. Oh, this one smells like mint, though. I pick the plant off the ground carefully, using my fingernails to cleanly snap the stem. I gather some various coloured wildflowers as well before heading back.

And it's at this moment I'm loving Colhen. So much better than my life before at...

At...

My thoughts halt abruptly and are lost as I walk through the gate to town. Far off near the Mercenary Outpost, though blurry, I recognize who they are. Royal Army colours and an old man's familiar face? I have only seen Gwynn haunting the Mercenary Outpost until now, so I know that these people are here for a particular reason. Right now they are talking to a couple random mercenaries, but soon Captain Aodhan exits the building to greet them. The mercenaries seem to turn to each other curiously, discussing something in low tones before walking off. They're heading in this direction, too. I feel a bit nervous for some reason, perhaps because I feel nosy (a bit too much like Gallagher), so like a bird I flit to somewhere else.

I don't want to head toward the Inn because they are most likely near there, the soldiers and the old man, so I head toward the General Store instead. I dig through my bag for the armour piece I promised. (I make a lot of promises, don't I?) I don't usually bring my bag with me into battle in case I damage things, but I do have one for other occasions. Opposed to Lann's traditional burlap rucksack, I have a plain but graceful white messenger bag for casual outtings beside my own little knapsack. There is also the tiny purse that's a part of the booty shorts outfit. I don't really use it for anything except when I'm donning that outfit... Which is only special occasions now... Which is only when I feel like wearing booty shorts and fuzzy booties... Which is practically _**never**_.

Sorry, Clodagh.

A little bell chimes as I enter through the door. I don a smile as I greet a peachy Clodagh and Fenella. I wave to Aislinn, as well.

"I've got something for you." I smile cheekily as I hold up the piece.

She gasps. "That's..." Her eyes get teary and I prepare for waterworks. "Oh my. Oh, my child, you are a blessing. Thank you!"

She tells me a little bit more about her family, and the armour... When she offers it to me to wear, I regretfully decline, "I would be honoured to, Fenella. But for a number of reasons, I can't. One, it's yours, and it's important to you. Two, it would be too heavy, especially when I collect the full set."

Nodding in understanding, she only realizes what I said a second later. "... ! The.. the full set? You would... I can't ask that of you, you've already went through so much for me... But oh, oh that would be lovely. It would really give me a peace of mind if..." She sniffles.

_Aww..._ I set down the armour gingerly and move forward to hug the woman, not paying heed to the chime that filled the shop as I did so, nor Aislinn addressing the customer. "It's okay. I understand." I say softly, patting her back. "Even without it being said, I had already made up my mind to get it all back for you anyway."

After a heartfelt discussion and a while later, Fenella is okay. A few more exchanged pleasantries and I am ready to go. I'm surprised to finally notice Lann's presence, who is leaning against the wall near the door waiting for me. When did he...

He speaks up, eyebrows raised and a grin of amusement. "So this is where you've been hiding."

"Hiding?" I raise my eyebrows as well, though out of my confusion, "From who?"

"Some people from the Royal Army came looking for a magician named Evie."

I think my face may have quite suddenly lost its life as it fell. The others in the shop approach curiously to join the discussion.

"Who's Evie?" Aislinn dares ask first, catching Lann's attention.

He hums in thought. "I'm not sure. Do you happen to know, Evie?" Lann pointedly looks in my direction, trying to discern my reaction. It hasn't changed. I look frozen in place.

_This can't be happening._

"That's not Evie, that's Crow." Fenella says with a frown, glancing at my stricken face in concern. "Why would the Royal Army be looking for her?"

"I'm not quite sure yet. I've been trying to figure this all out since Aodhan asked me to look into it. The soldiers and the old guy were at the Inn, last I checked. Tieve said the old man was especially interested in 'finding out how his favourite student was getting along'."

I feel my knees getting shaky. I am not a criminal or anything, but I worked damn _hard_ to make a new identity for myself amongst my peers and I don't want all my hard work crumbling around me. I just got life the way I like it and I don't want the old one back. Certain people could rot in Rocheste for all I care. I am never going back. A whell of panic rises in my throat, and I swallow painfully. _I don't want to go back. He's going to make me._

But a hand on my back startles me out of my thoughts and I turn my head to Fenella's reassuring, determined face. "I don't remember meeting any Evie. Only Crow..."

Clodagh, catching on, has a glint in her eyes as she smiles. "Yes. Can't say I've ever heard or seen this Evie person either. Just plain mercenaries, like Crow."

Aislinn smirks at the mischief, but does nothing else but nod.

It's up to Lann, now. Will he let the secret out, where Evie really is? We all turn to him, and he scratches his head, gesturing placatingly at the threatening looks from the shop full of women. "If she doesn't want to turn up, I don't care enough to tell. I'm no Royal Army dog."

Finally, a relieved smile replaces my fearful features and I practically jump him. My arms wrap around his middle tightly. He's taller than me by a bit, and he smells like sweaty man, but that's Lann for you. I don't particularly care. My actions speaks louder than words, and he replies _you're welcome_ by simply returning the hug. The other women must be smiling, because I catch Clodagh's cooing voice behind me. I mumble something not particularly nice and I can feel Lann's chest vibrate as he stifles a laugh. _Shut up, shut up, Clodagh._ I'm happy though, as I sneak out of the shop with Lann afterwards. I have some good friends in Colhen.

Screw Rocheste and the Royal Army.

**(( Lann the Man ))**


	4. Guardian of the Goddess

Finally, some action! Though it seems even my action turns into some kind of introspective drama. On another note, I'm slowly going to drop the Crow nickname, as you can probably guess. It's serving its purpose for now. So for those who don't like my name for her, you only need be patient and it will magically disappear...

(( The Guardian of the Goddess ))

Because I am out of my mind and possibly am masochistic to a point, I actually find myself quite often intentionally and unintentionally pestering Brynn. Sometimes I'll try talking to Nyle, though he doesn't say much. His stare is piercing, though I can't quite seem to meet his eyes under the shade of that hood. Eventually I either give up from lack of response or the nervousness growing from the glare that I can _feel _judging me. Recently however, I haven't gone to Brynn's little abode, because I know it as inevitable that someone from the Royal Army looking for a magician named _Evie_ would look in the only magical place in Colhen—Brynn's. Sensing something bad in this equation, I wisely avoided Brynn, to avoid being caught and to avoid _him_. I can last another mission without health potions! I have healing!

When the old man from Rocheste left with his entourage of burly, no-nonsense soldiers, I finally dared visit Brynn. In brief, I was sorely scolded. I took it in stride—look ma, no tears!—but fled the place quickly.

It wasn't until I'd packed everything on the boat headed to the next secret mission in Ainle, all the while reviewing the conversation in my head, that I realized that in order to scold me, Brynn has to _know_ that I am to blame for the Royal Army visiting him! Even realizing then, I had no time to visit him again and make _my own_ enquiry about what he knew and how. Almost immediately after finishing packing, our small fellowship of three set sail.

The third person? That would be actually another woman, and now a good friend of mine! She's a bit... tougher than me, is much stronger than me, and is curvier than me even in heavy armour... A proud and silent personality, but a sociable enough person... No, I'm not jealous. I really admire Fiona. She has qualities and confidence I wish I had. I can tell Lann thinks so too, though I can also tell he's thinking other less honourable things as well. _Watch those roaming eyes, Lann, or she might just notice._ No, sorry, I exaggerate. Lann's a good person overall. He's treated her with nothing but respect since she's joined us on our escapades.

I suppose there is one thing that throws me off... It's, just, **really weird** when he tries to act cool in front of her. When they both get into this sort of **contest** when they see the mobs of enemies and suddenly Lann is whirling like a madman up the way and Fiona's singling out the strong monsters and I'm left a pace or two behind wondering if they'll leave any for me... Well, it's moments like those that I'm starting to feel awkward like when I was back in... in.. Rocheste, as if I'm a bystander and not fitting in. Just observing everyone interacting and having fun.

I get an ill feeling when I think of Rocheste. Yes, I used to live there. No, I wasn't born there. I suppose if you're a visitor it's a nice enough place. There are nice sides to Rocheste that even I cannot deny the pleasure of experiencing. But while I was living in Rocheste, it was a different world. I was there for a reason, and not by choice. If I had any choice back then, I would be still with my parents... _Oh, but then again, they were the ones who sold me,_ I remind myself bitterly.

"Crow?" Fiona asks, scaring me as I didn't expect her here instead of ahead with Lann. They usually tend to forget I exist until they're way up ahead. "Are you alright?"

_I can't be all whiny like this. Evie's dead and in the past._

Crow came to Colhen to change and forge a new life for herself. Certainly if I compare myself as I am now to Evie back then, I would see how much stronger I am, not only magically but in independence too. I take care of myself and others, now. I help people because I care, and I care because they are important to me. I do not rely on other people's money to survive in life, and likewise I don't rely on other people to make my decisions for me.

I shake my head as if to throw away all negative thoughts, and smile, "Yes. I'm fine. Thank you, though."

"You seemed kind of upset a second ago... Is it that we're taking all the action away from you?" Fiona taps her index finger wonderingly against her frowning, humming lips.

Almost squawking out of indignation for her suggesting I would be so upset over something that trivial, I feel the rush to defend myself. "No, it's not that. Things have been... hard on me recently. It's been very stressful. Not only new happenings to worry about, but even old things from before Colhen have been coming back to haunt me, things I'd rather not see for the rest of my life!" I take a breath in, and realize how much I had just said, flushing. I didn't mean to say so much... I haven't known her that long and I've already told her more than I've even told _Lann._

I meet her eyes warily, but mine flickers away and back again between her and the mob ahead. Lann is really keeping himself busy. There's a small silence as I wait anxiously for her reaction.

"I knew it couldn't be that." She responded simply. My mouth slid agape as she went on, "You're not the type to hold a petty grudge like that. I just wanted you to tell me yourself what was bothering you."

Have I mentioned how I admire Fiona?

Her understanding and her support is what convince me to tell her more of myself, and soon we are exchanging stories. As of this mission, she is possibly the only person in Colhen I know of who knows so much about me.

( )

"Crow, we're having trouble getting past those fireballs, is there anything you can do...?"

I bite my my lip as I consider my array of magics. Cold combats heat, and I have two spells that act in different ways. One covers a vast area, destructive but mostly trapping the stronger enemies while destroying the weaker ones. The other one is focused into a single point—ice spear. Ice spear is dense, sharp, and powerful alongside having a greater chance of freezing the enemy. Unfortunately it takes longer to prepare. Ice Blast, the area-affecting spell is easier and faster to cast.

I don't have much time to think, as another fireball throws Lann off his feet and barrelling into... barrels. I dash toward his fallen form and with a quick summon several glittering orbs circle around the two of us, becoming attracted to Lann's injuries and patching them enough to help him move out of the way as the white-robed vampire lunged for us. We both dodge to the side and narrowly miss a painful strike. _That was close. I need to act before we get seriously injured._

Before Lann runs off to try slashing at it again, I grab his arm and bring his ear near my lips... I whisper something quick in his ear. He nods and runs off to join Fiona. As he's no doubt whispering to Fiona as well, I watch where the enemy's attention is. The vampire's attention is on Lann and Fiona, but Fiona's using her shield to absorb the brunt of a fireball this time while Lann seems prepare to lob everything blunt and heavy toward its head. Just as planned.

I take this opportunity to focus. Holding my staff in front of me, I start preparing for the spell. Then on the second stage of my focus I'm preparing the ice needed—this is the defining moment, whether I choose to disperse it now in a wide area-of-effect spell or take a bit more time to form Ice Spear. I choose the latter, but the time is just short, and the vampire finally notices the giant spear of ice forming off to the far side. A fireball is heading in my way and I have little choice but to haphazardly strew the rest of the spear together and send it on its way... just as light completely consumes my vision and the roar of flame deafen my ears. Everyone knows I'm not wearing heavy armour. Cloth burns, despite the best of materials these are made of.

I only have one more trick up my sleeve. I jump on the spot, tucking my legs as crystal cracks into being around me completely. Curled up to save energy and space, the crystal is batted away fittingly like a ball into the corner of a house. As the wall and the roof crumble over me and my shield falls apart, I can only hope that I didn't **miss**, so that Fiona and Lann would have the opportunity to deal some real damage. I let out a sharp noise as the large splinters of debris not only weigh down heavily on my ribcage but jut into various places along my body. I can hear fighting in the back, metal against metal and _thump_ sounds not of metal on flesh—the vampire, despite its name, looks more like a skeleton—perhaps bone, then? I strain to hear, as my vision is blockaded. I close my eyes to prevent tiny splinters from hitting my eyes.

If I can focus a bit, I may be able to levitate this off me... So I try, trying to set aside the real fight going on away from this debris pile, and trying to set aside the worry of my two friends dying because I'm not there to help, and though it's hard to concentrate the burden on me shifts a bit, enough to breathe again. After a much-needed breath I free my vision as well before finding myself in need of some recovery time before the next attempt to free myself. Levitating may look cool, but why does it have to take so long to lift things? I gripe in frustration as I scan the area with my newly reacquired vision for my team.

Fiona and Lann are on opposite sides of the vampire, forcing it to leave an opening. It's got a huge whole in its chest, and it's starting to fall on its knees when Fiona raises her sword for a final smash at the same time Lann crosses his swords for a final slice... In tandem Lann (the faster one) slices off its arms, followed by Fiona acting out the part of a guillotine and lopping off its head. Even through my decommissioned misery and boundless frustration, it was truly beautiful to watch.

Then in sync they both slumped to the ground in exhaustion, completely out of stamina.

"Thank god..." I congratulate them.

Lann whips his head toward me with wide eyes, as if just remembering where I am. "Crow!" Throwing himself onto unsteady feet, he somewhat stumbles over to me, already reaching to move something over me out of the way.

Fiona, following at a slower pace, seems to notice something over us and jerks as if to warn him...

"Wait, Lann!"

A foreboding _crick_ sounds out and another fresh layer of ceiling falls on us both.

( )

I am so disoriented when I wake up... I don't quite remember what I was doing last time I was conscious beside that I am supposed to be in Ainle, or what time it is, but it is dark now. I'm in pain, I feel nauseous, and it hurts especially every time I try to take a breath, but it's not so bad compared to... compared to... Goddess, I'm so sleepy...

( )

Light filters through my vision again, an afternoon light, and my body feels very unresponsive. I feel sluggish and I seem to lay for hours before I can even think about making any big movements like sitting up. My chest doesn't really hurt anymore, though I have a slight headache. What the heck happened to me? What was I doing? Wait, wasn't I in Ainle? Or was that a dream? Ohh, my head... I cradle my head and stop worrying about it. As I feel around my aching head, I realize I have clean bandages wrapped around it. I got a head injury? Is it a concussion? When would that have happened? _Well, these futile conjectures won't bring me any answers. Best I find someone to ask._

My stomach rumbles and I realize I'm starving. I could really use something to eat...

Lifting the thick blanket off me, I carefully place my feet on the floor. I look around the room for shoes but only find a pair of slippers. Oh well, that will do. I step a bit away from the bed and quickly levitate the slippers over to me. Small and light, it's easy to do even while feeling like crap. With my feet comfortably covered, I slowly stalk out of the room. For some reason I feel wary, though that may be because I'm feeling very disoriented and have no idea what's happened. It seems like I'm at the Inn, though. If that's so, then...

I stop by Lann's room, and find the door already open. I peer in, looking for him. He's there, but he seems to be napping full-clothed on the bed. I consider sneaking further into the room and magically fluffing his pillow, but decide not to as I might wake him up. I don't particularly desire meeting Lann's grumpy side.

I exit the room and head to the first floor...


	5. Busybody of the Goddess

I keep making proofreading edits in my story... Sorry... I thought I catch all these mistakes when I go through it. It's because I'm used to writing third person past tense, not first person present. It's throwing me off. I'll try harder next time!

* * *

><p>(( The Busybody of the Goddess ))<p>

Tieve is of course there to greet me, and surprisingly Fiona as well. Fiona, to my knowledge, isn't staying at the inn, but with a friend of hers in Colhen... Not sure who that is, as I've never asked. I wave cheerily at them. It's always a relief to be back in Colhen, so even though I feel somewhat like a mess with half my memories in tact and my motor functions still lagging behind, I am happier just waking up in my favourite town.

"Crow!" Tieve exclaims softly in delightful surprise, a pretty smile on her lips. "You're awake! Good afternoon."

Fiona eyes my face for a moment before saying, "Good to have you amongst us in the land of the living, Crow. How is your head?"

"My head...?" I trail off in confusion. "I have a slight headache, and I feel like I've been asleep for millennia, but otherwise I'm feeling great. And also starving."

Tieve lets out an 'oh' and hurries off somewhere out of sight. She comes back a second later with a plate of something so delicious and sweet I can almost feel myself drooling... She sets it down in front of me and I barely stop to thank her for my food before I dig in. To make up for my rudeness, I gush about Tieve's pancakes' godliness afterwards. Fiona, amused watching me, eventually interrupts my endless lauding.

"So, what do you remember, Crow?"

I wipe my mouth and take a swig from my glass of orange juice to clear my throat before answering slowly, "We were in Ainle, for one."

Memories of Lann and Fiona rushing onward...

Fiona talking to me, me telling Fiona some truths about myself...

I go on just as more memories begin to flow through my mind again, "We effortlessly made our way through town, until we came across a much stronger foe. A vampire in white..."

My gaze wanders toward the dead fireplace in the inn, and I remember my vision and hearing being swallowed by the roar of flames, before everything went dampened—sound and the world—by blue crystal. I'm a bit lost as to what happened thereafter, but I recognize the crystal as Mana Amber, at least.

"I remember lots of fire being thrown about, but I'm having trouble remembering more details than that, unfortunately."

Fiona nods, confirming the authenticity of my memories. "Concussion tends to do that. Well, we were having trouble getting much hits in past the many explosions going on, so I asked you if you had anything that might help." I remember this. I also remember whispering a plan in Lann's ear. "Lann told me that we needed to keep the vampire's attention for a bit. You were preparing an Ice Spear while we did our best to hold its attention away from you... But it caught on just as you were close to finishing, and though you managed to complete it and hit the vampire, it didn't give you any time to dodge the fireball. Luckily you have that shield, but the direct blast slammed you into a house, and it collapsed on you."

There is more to the story I don't know, and I beg her to continue. Fiona makes an unsure face, but does so.

"While you were stuck under the debris, Lann and I had to take our only chance to lay some serious damage into the vampire. I'm sorry we took so long to get to you..."

I shake my head. Is that why she looked so unsure before? "I didn't even think of begrudging you that. It was necessary. I'm glad you did so, otherwise we would all be in a tougher situation!"

Fiona smiles, relieved. Then I suddenly remember seeing the ending to that fight, and more. "Wait a minute, I was fine even though I was stuck. I don't think I got a concussion from that first hit... My shield absorbed most of the house's structural collapse... How did I get hit in the head?" I rub my head gingerly, frowning.

A cough sounds, and we all turn toward the door. Alas, there stands Lann, looking sheepish and flushing pink.

"Yeah, that's, uh... That's my fault." He looked away.

I blink, not following. I don't remember anything that would incriminate Lann. "How is it your fault?"

"After me and Fiona rushed to slay that guy, I noticed you needed help and I went to get you out... But when I was about to heave something off you Fiona shouted and..." He rubs his head and winces, as if remembering something painful.

Fiona finishes for him, "He was going to move something still attached to the roof. I tried to warn him but was late and more of the roof collapsed on you two. Your concussion probably happened there."

I hum as I absorb this information, and then turn to Lann and ask in concern, "It collapsed on you, too. Are you alright?"

"I got a bit banged up but unlike you I have a real helmet."

"And a hard head." Fiona smirks wryly, rapping her knuckles lightly against his skull.

I giggle as Lann sulked.

( )

With Fiona and Lann, we separated the loot gained from that recent mission. After some bartering I managed to get the two to agree to come with me when I show the white vampire robe to Brynn and Nyle. Brynn always voiced his doubts that I was facing tough enemies for some reason, and I feel the rare need to show off for once. This is a _white_ vampire robe that no other place had, not even the extensive marketplace in Colhen, where somewhere and how all things eventually end up—or so they say. I adjust my bandages to feel and look more comfortable as I wear them, and pick out a nice outfit to wear. I don't have many clothes beside the ones Clodagh forced—I mean _convinced_ me to wear. That meant I had the frilly scarlet skirted one; the booty shorts outfit, with fuzzy booties; of course my bad-ass one with skulls, spikes, and actual pants; and my current one with the cape and short skirt. I also have my old crimson blade and veteran clothes, though I rarely wear them anymore.

A knock sounds and Fiona pokes her head into my room. "Crow—my gosh you have so many strange costumes woman!" She jokes, walking in to look at them in curiosity.

I poke my tongue at her and turn back to the strange outfits with a frown. "My cape outfit needs to be repaired, and I don't feel like wearing any of these today..."

"Well, why not borrow one of mine?" She lifts my self-proclaimed bad-ass outfit up to her eyes, and smiles. "Say, if you let me borrow this one for today."

As I mull it over, Fiona is already out the door, presumably to change and get her outfit from wherever she's staying. I put away my clothes and wait for her to come back. _Now... what outfit will I be wearing...?_ I bite my lip as I idly entertain myself with levitating things and forcing them to duel each other. Sock monkey is the hero, going against the all-encompassing pillow dragon. Mister sock monkey isn't doing so well, but fear not! Here comes the beautiful—hmm...glove lady—to save the day! Sock monkey drops to one knee all knight-like and swears his allegiance to the almighty glove lady. Yes, that's right, Lann, bow to your superior! Bwahahaha! I mean sock monkey.

When she finally returns, she immediately throws something at me with a grin, and I catch it with surprise. The feeling of leather between my fingertips is...

I feel a bit too enthusiastic to try this on. "Out, out! I'll meet you downstairs!"

Fiona laughs as she exits.

( )

The cleavage on this thing is amazing, I can hardly believe I've never seen Fiona wear it. I'm surprised I hadn't seen her in town, either. I would _remember_ this outfit.

Suddenly feeling a little to much like an old lecher, I shake the thoughts away, and jokingly strike a sexy pose as I greet Fiona. She laughs, and I consider it mission accomplished. I drop it not even a second later, but it's enough to send Lann—who I forgot was there—doubling back as he eyes me from head to toe.

"_When did you get that outfit and why haven't you worn it yet?_" He drills me, eyes right about ready to pop out of his skull.

I'm blushing as Fiona kicks Lann in the shin, causing him to yelp. "It's mine, actually. As you can probably see, we're trading outfits today."

"That's _yours?_" He gapes at Fiona, but both her and I ignore him this time.

I take time to actually look at my friend in my black jacket and pants. She adjusted it to suit her, foregoing the white bandage wraps in favour of showing some cleavage and letting the wrap hang loosely around her neck instead. The hood is detached, so I'm assuming she doesn't want to be all shady today. She also has some real boots on, so it doesn't look like she's mummified. (It's always a real pain to prepare the wraps anyway... Though for the shoes the wraps are already put together and only appear to be singular strands.)

I compliment her. "You look good, Fiona!"

"Same with you. You look good in black."

Indeed, I am wearing her black leather sharpshooter outfit. A dark miniskirt, a loose and open long-sleeved white shirt, a black vest to top it, and long black boots... I have dark hair as well, so I suppose it would match.

"Alright! We're off to see the wizard~" I say in a sing-song voice.

Fiona loops her arm in my left and I do so with Lann's. Fiona pulls us away to our destination.

_~The wizard, the wizard, the wonderful wizard of gauze!_ I finish the song in my head, remembering with a small smile Brynn the Nurse.

( )

"Oh, it's you three... wonderful."

"Nice to see you too." Lann mutters at Brynn's bland tone.

"Hello!" I greet him with a wave.

Fiona nods but otherwise doesn't acknowledge him at all. Her eyes are elsewhere.

And soon enough, Nyle's voice interrupts us as I bring out what I was going to show Brynn. "Is that a white vampire robe? _Where did you get this?_"

I hand it to Brynn. "We were in Ainle not too long ago..."

Fiona cuts in, a hand on my shoulder, "Actually, Crow, it's been a week." The look in her eyes is apologetic, but it doesn't take away the shock. A whole week! I was unconscious for a whole...?

My shock is written all over my face. "I was unconscious for a whole _week?_" I ask in disbelief, whirling around to look at my two friends. "Why didn't anyone tell me?"

I rub the bandages still around my head, wondering if there was any permanent damage. _Exactly how hard did I hit my head?_

Brynn and Nyle are watching with interest, though with a frown Brynn finally questions us, "What happened to knock... Crow, out?"

I turn around to face him, and he's eyeing the bandages around my head with a growing scowl. I gulp, and since Fiona and Lann are just both silently shifting, I take the reigns and brief Brynn on what went down in Ainle. He doesn't say or do anything however, and the conversation eventually turns again as Nyle takes a look at the fabric.

"What do you think, Brynn?"

"As I suspected. This is not of this world." He says, "So they were-"

"Wait. Not here." Nyle interrupts hurriedly. He seems like a very rude person to me. He's done nothing but interrupt or ignore me since I've known him. _Why so mysterious, Nyle?_

"... Fine. Thank you for the robe, ladies and gentlemen, I will be borrowing this for inspection of its magical properties. You may go."

And confusingly, the conversation ends there all abruptly. We three mercenaries turn to leave, but I lag a few paces behind, wondering what those two were talking about.

"Wait, Evie." A voice calls behind me, and I freeze in the doorway.

"Crow?" Fiona turns around, noticing I'm not following.

Without missing a beat, I casually wave her off, excusing myself, saying I need Brynn to craft me a few things. She nods, though I catch her glance curiously into the shop before leaving with Lann. I swear she just gave me this _we'll-talk-later_ look before she turned away... I head slowly back into the shop, a mask of blasé replacing my normally bright features. "..." I have no words, but the look in my red-hued eyes speaks volumes as I lock onto his own dark ones. _How did you know? What do you know?_

"What other magicians do you know in Colhen? When they ask for a female magician, you are the first one that pops into mind. The fact that you hadn't deigned to pester me at all throughout the duration of the time they were here confirmed my suspicions."

"I was wondering how you would know to blame me when I came to visit you before our trip..." I muse, then ask, "So that's all you know of me?"

"There is more I know of the magician Evie... But now is not the time for that. Rest assured, I have no reason to draw attention to myself or you. Nyle, I believe this merc has proven herself and can be trusted. Though Goddess knows, I can't vouch for her skills..."

I pout at that. _It's not like I choose to get injured during missions. I always end them successfully, anyway, despite being either alone or with Lann (and now Fiona)!_

"... Evie, afterall, brought us this robe, even with the other two's help."

Well, I can't say whether I dealt most of the damage or not, but I did contribute so it's not exactly untrue.

"I still don't completely trust you. But I will tell you this." Nyle grudgingly said, "We are here to protect the goddess. If you wish to become one of us, prove your worth. Return to Ainle and investigate what's going on."

I acknowledge the quest with a perky salute and smile. "Ok!"

Nyle stalks off somewhere to another room, mysterious as ever. I drop the cheerful demeanour and consider everything seriously. Something big seems to be going on. What exactly am I getting into? _Not of this world, Brynn said. What does that mean? Where did they come from, then? And does that mean more will keep coming?_ This worries me. What if something worse comes from wherever the rest of these guys are coming? Moreover, the enemies so far all look like skeletons, as if they are _dead._ But in retrospect, how do you kill something that's already dead? Unless... we didn't kill them.

"Necromancy...?" I murmur to myself.

Brynn steps toward me, and I turn to him as he speaks, "Perhaps. And perhaps not. I need evidence and more time to research. Now let me take a look at that." I mark his movements carefully with my eyes. His hand comes up slowly and I can feel his fingers graze the bandages wrapped around my head. His eyes are dark but I can't tell what he is really thinking. So I let him do as he pleases while I continue thinking.

"Where there is necromancy, however, there is a ritual..." I start derailing in thought as his hand roams from my bandage, down my cheek to my chin, where he almost _caringly_ grasps it and lifts my head to lock eyes with him. While his expression is still reminiscent to a doctor sternly examining his patient, there's something very _different_ to be said about his movements... Even when Brynn lets go of my chin, my eyes are still chained to his, and my heart drums loudly in my chest. I don't understand my own body's reactions. I struggle to recall what I was saying, and add lamely in a low murmur, "... at least, that's from what I remember from my readings... back in Rocheste..."

I can't understand what the hell is happening, but for some reason I don't have the will to move just yet. His hand, that had let go of my chin, trails down lightly and noncommittally down the side of my neck to rest at the crest of my collar bone. I watch his eyes as they dip and follow the path his hands are taking, and I actually stutter as I mention, "Th-though what I also know about rituals says they take time, materials, and often much space to accomplish... right? At least that's what I was told..." My breathing quickens suddenly, but I pretend it doesn't affect me. Though I know my face is probably glowing red.

Finally, I can't take it anymore and start to whisper, "Brynn..."

Blond hair and dark eyes usurp my vision as something warm presses against my lips, and my breath is halted. It doesn't register immediately in my mind, and even when it does I still can't believe it. _Brynn._ What's even more disbelieving is my own reaction to it, as I gradually respond back to his slow and sensual kiss. _What am I doing?_ Another hand appears at the small of my back at the same time that one of my own grasps his robe, and suddenly I'm trapped within an embrace starting to wonder _who turned out the lights?_ Until, that is, I realize I've closed my eyes. As the kiss deepens, his hand near my collar bone coolly slips into the open V of the shirt and slides across the expanse of skin there, dangerously close to my... A gasp escapes me, in a sudden movement courtesy Brynn, but it is hastily swallowed by another kiss, this one more persistent than the last.

Eventually we have to break to catch our breaths, and besides the sounds of our equally laboured breathing there is oppressive silence. I can only stare at him wide-eyed and (absolutely!) uncomprehending, compared to Brynn, who in his typical fashion completely ignores my questioning gaze and my mental turmoil, holding a completely perfect poker face. The corner of the bastard's lips lift in a small display of self-satisfaction as I gawk. With a light squeeze from the arm around my waist, he leans his damnable lips near my ear, savouring my shivers probably as the mean, mean man whispers...

"Don't make me repeat myself. Don't get hurt this time."

That provokes a reaction from me, and snapping out of whatever mood just happened back into reality... I stutter something stupid in retaliation with my face all red and my insides all jumpy and panicky... Holding my hands up to my warm cheeks I manage out "I'll be back to slap you!" before I flee out the door. Yes. Real mature of me, I know. But I suddenly have a lot of thinking to do. I obviously misunderstood Brynn somewhere, though when had I gotten so ignorant, I don't know.

( )

"You're finally back! What-"

I decide not to tell Fiona this and Blink past her on the way to my Inn room, where I shout a quick "GOOD NIGHT! Talk to you tomorrow!" before collapsing onto my bed.

_Wow._

(( Brynn the Curious Monkey ))


	6. TEA SPIRIT : Brynn

|l|l ₪ l|l| TEA SPIRIT |l|l ₪ l|l|

Let's clear up one thing. I'm Brynn, and I more or less am one of the only truly knowledgeable researchers and magic-users in the small town of Colhen. I am not bragging, merely stating the facts. Most of Colhen's residents are comprised truthfully of mercenaries and shopkeepers. Even I need to take up this post to sustain my existence in Colhen near the Oracle, while I do my research of course. In recent months however, I've come to suspect I am not the only one knowledgeable of things of a magical nature around these parts. Until now I haven't had any reason to suspect more than that... Certainly nothing as in, for example, a rookie magician with mysterious connections to the upperclass mages of the Royal Court, or a familiar spirit from my childhood.

These far-fetched theories started forming around the time _she_ mysteriously disappeared.

I remember the last thing she pestered me for. A new staff to go with her new clothes. It seems Clodagh had forced new equipment on her again, and with it she came to the bright idea that her previous staff was obsolete now. True, the new staff she picked was made stronger, but it hadn't been that long since she made the older one. I suppose it doesn't matter why she felt she needed one so soon, she is a customer. Of course she payed for both, though there was a moment where we thought there would not be enough ingredients for it. Since she was already cutting into my precious time already, I took something from my own personal stores of materials and finished the staff. She was happy, and thus I was happy―as she left.

|l|l ₪ l|l|

"Thank you, Brynn... I'll need this." Crow says gratefully while gripping hard her Watchtower staff, her expression radiating sincerity and trust, so much that it makes me... uncomfortable? Uncertain, perhaps? I'm not very sure about myself at this moment, and being a man of knowledge, this bothers me. I can feel my skin tingling and my heart palpitations increasing as I run my mind through the question. Why does she make me unsure of myself? Though it seems I could not come up with a ready answer.

Not about to lose composure over this trivial matter, I respond with a sentence she usually hears, "Take care," with all the usual sardonism. As usual, she ignores it, and smiles as she silently turns to leave.

|l|l ₪ l|l|

A bitter smile. I'm sure of it. Though it was a mere glimpse, my sharp eyes are trained to catch details, and her eyes were as cloudy as a storm rolling in, which holds a promise of rain. Those troubled eyes... What could give her an expression like that? I find myself with a frown, and a strong troubled feeling myself. It's happening again, I'm caring about this random merc, and I wonder why.

Perhaps I've been stressing too much over my work. It's time for a small break, for the good of body and mind.

Tea then, I decide. I head to the kitchen and make the preparations. Soon enough I am lounging in a chair, the subtle bittersweet flavour of the tea on my tongue relaxing me already. My mind drifts onto idle topics, and my body's muscles loosen. I rotate my shoulder, realizing how tense they were. I stress myself unnecessarily sometimes. Even if I am, I must remember to take more of these breaks once in a while. Once I become focused on something, however, I have trouble letting it go until I'm done with it.

My mind eventually hooks onto Crow again. She frequents this shop of mine for some reason or other... Somehow breaking me from my work in a way like no other visitor or customer I have had beside Tieve.

I stir the slowly cooling beverage in my hands, watching the misty swirls and leaves circling the area of the cup. I become absentminded in thought, nearly missing the sound of my door opening. I set down my cup after seeing who it is. I quickly stand up to greet them before they move further into the depths of my shop and make a mess of things.

An unwelcome, familiar old face, and four burly Royal Army soldiers suddenly make my day worse.

"Long time no see, my boy. It is I, Argeld. Do you remember me? Or not boy anymore, is it? It certainly has been a long time..." Argeld still likes the sound of his own voice, I note with further displeasure. "Brynn, if I remember what the kind mercenaries had said correctly?"

My insides transform into ice as I steel myself for dealing with this ghost of my past. I am not his boy, I never was, and he had no right to treat me as he had back then, nor anyone else for that matter. I escaped a long time ago, made connections with different and better people, and became the _man_ I was today. I am a strong (believe it or not), bright (of course), and independent man (regardless of what business with mercenaries I do to get materials I need) with responsibilities and no connection to _Argeld_ whatsoever anymore. Even so, he is influential because of his status as a mage in some antiquated council, and did surreptitious as well as _very_ questionable deals with many nobles, so he has a knack for getting his way when he wants to.

I only narrow my eyes in reaction to him, less than willingly responding, "Yes, I am Brynn. What, if I may ask, brings you here?"

The old man smiles a twisted smile, as he is no longer able to convey pure intentions from all the deceit and manipulation he has committed along the years, "Ah, I _am_ terribly sorry to interrupt your... leisure time, however I am searching for someone." I tense. Nyle isn't here at the moment, though... "Do you remember my little girl?"

What? Flashes of memory light up at the back of my mind. A quiet black-haired girl watching us from afar, awkwardly greeting me in the halls, _"H-hi."_ and traipsing in through the dungeon door curiously only to draw back in horror. I am caught off guard at this unexpected trip into the past, and puzzle as he continues...

"She would be much older by now, I'm afraid. She has become such a _beautiful_, dainty, young lady." A sneer further morphs his face into something frightening. "She ran away nearly half a year ago, and I have been frantic with worry searching for her." He rambles, though I know from experience that most of what he says is mud from the deepest pile of bull I'll ever hear. "As it came to be, I heard Colhen has some magicians, and I am pleasantly surprised to find you are the master of the only magic shop in this humble town, with no other notable magic user in sight. Young man, have you seen Evie?"

At hearing that name, I snap out of my daze in surprise. That name... That was her name.

I should note that while I escaped from Argeld's grasp long ago, I had not done it without help. Slipping through the dungeon door that one night, while I was shackled to the ceiling above a magic circle left to suffer the effects of "whatever interesting discoveries" would happen, was that little black-haired girl. Despite already having been in this kind of world longer than I, she was still somewhat naive about things. After some coaxing and a long chat with the shy girl, I had convinced her to free me from my shackles. I took that opportunity to escape. I hadn't really thought to bring her with me, but it had looked like she had escaped unnoticed at the time.

"_Please, I may die if this stupid experiment botches! If we do this quick, you can go back and I can escape without anyone being the wiser... Please, you know what will happen if you don't help. You wouldn't want that, right? Evie?"_

"_Um... no, well... O-okay. But don't tell him! He'll get angry at me." Clack, clack. "There. Um... You'll come back for me?"_

"_Yes, yes! Now go, we can't get caught here!"_

"Evie..."

I never did go back, I remember with a stab of regret. I honestly hadn't wanted or even dared to. She only ran away 6 months ago? I can only imagine how life with that corrupt old man for that long would be like... The imaginary knife of regret twists further into the wound, and I feel incredibly sorry for the little girl in my memories. I almost wish I could find her, and at least see how she is doing... But then again, it seems as if she would be hiding right now. How likely would it be for me to run into her?

I remember to respond to Argeld. "I know whom you speak of, but I'm afraid I've no idea where she would be. She is _not_ here."

That is the truth, for as far as I know. Argeld and his intimidating escort of heavy-built beasts of soldiers leave my shop.

|l|l ₪ l|l|

Later I am sitting with lukewarm tea, tense, and eyes furrowed, while my mind puzzles over the latest mysteries brought forth by the ghosts from my past. It's not hard to connect the dots.

A black haired lady. A magician in Colhen. Crow is black haired and a magician. If little Evie was grown up, right now Crow would appear to be around the right age as her. On top of that, the elusive Crow has not deigned to visit the shop at all lately. All evidence seems to point to Crow, suspiciously. Could it be?

Amongst wonder, anxiety, and a host of other feelings, there is also guilt. I had said I would, and I had made that a lie. I close my eyes and attempt to subdue these feelings. There is nothing to be done about it now. That was a long time ago, and I cannot go back in time and help her—theoretically I may be able to, but the sacrifices and possible ripping of space-time or causing the universe to implode might be consequences too great for... Well, yes. Anyway.

"Crow... Evie..." I murmur to myself, setting them side by side in my mind, little Evie as well as Crow as I see them.

Evie was... well, I wouldn't say _cute_ personally, but she would be described as such from other perspectives other than mine. Quite the doll at the time, she was wearing lacy and fashionable dresses that were surely picked out by Argeld and the tailors he went to. Her whole wardrobe was like that, as far as I could tell. She never truly cared for the clothes, nor had the grace to move in them like I had seen other girls our ages do.

Crow, almost like a parallel, was also... _cute._ A hand of mine comes up to mask the lower half of my embarrassed face as I reluctantly attach the adjective to the person. Cute, is it... There were other words I could give to describe Crow as well, reminded of my regretfully genuine opinions (that I would never share, mind you) courtesy of Clodagh playing Crow not unlike a mannequin or 'doll', except with sometimes the most daring or strange outfits. Because of this I was forced to change my opinion of the woman as not only cute, but frilly, intimidating, and attractive as well. There even are traces of shyness in the way she holds herself in some of those outfits, though she now glides with lightly feminine grace unlike her clumsy counterpart, Evie.

Though time had passed, so perhaps it would be bound to happen. The similarities are unable to be discarded so easily.

Then there is the most obvious trait shared by the two, magic. I have mostly been assuming she has not been cultured to understand the more complicated nature of magic other than "build up power" and "boom", but I admit that I have not really given her a chance to prove herself from any other mercenary either. I do not recall receiving many of the mundane enquiry I usually receive in response to my ramblings, but she quietly listens and seems to almost accept them as they are, for whatever I bother to tell her. If she truly understands what I say, or at least most of it, then that would be evidence toward Crow actually being the grown-up Evie. Evie had been under Argeld's tutelage for magic, and enrolled in upper-class schooling as well (for as long as that would last, anyway). Should she have even a little experience in magic circles and arcane rituals, considering Argeld's main focus and strength in those areas, would be evidence toward being Evie or similar.

As it is, however, I do not have enough evidence to prove Crow's true knowledge in magical theory. The hints of a similarity might still support the parallel I see forming right now. I will have to see her again to see.

"And _aye, there's the rub_. For neither have I seen hide nor hair of the source of these troubles." I frown. Why am I so enthusiastic to see her again, if she's so troubling?

An introspection is long overdue. This must be the third time I've asked myself this. What is the answer to this question, Brynn?

I swallow as I view only Crow in my mind. I push all other thoughts away for the moment now as I focus on what I think of her. Crow, or Evie, the name matters little now. The person behind the name is what is bothering me. Since I first sat down for tea with her that time with Tieve's letter, she has been coming back to my shop occasionally, and then quite often—too much so to be coincidental or necessary.

Then there was the time she came back suffering disgusting and most certainly painful _injuries._ Multiple, the worst being her arm, that is. She didn't need to tell me what she came to me hoping for, a cursory glance over her figure and I could tell something was wrong. I do not know where she exactly went or what happened or what she was facing, but even if a relieved smile was on her lips, her eyes were torn with deep emotions I could not name. I could guess sadness or guilt. The point was she had been very upset, and hid it while facing me with horrible burns as well as a broken arm.

That made me really upset. That is reasonable, however, _if she is a friend._ I guess I do think of the mercenary as a friend. It doesn't hold up so true when I compare her to my other friends, and I'm forced to rethink this.

The revelation comes sudden and hits me hard. It's only disbelief at first. Then the more it starts making sense, the more I want to delude myself into thinking otherwise. _It can't be..._

"She's not... _**I**_ can't possibly think that she's attractive..."

I think back to the time she was injured, again. Asking her to take off her shirt for me to address the injury wasn't too difficult to ask, but still, as my hands ran down her soft back and she shivered... I have to admit that instant forced a reminder clearly into mind of the intimate nature of that ordeal. After my treatment ended and she stretched, her curvy and snowy body arching like the spine of a quill in the dim light of the room... Oh goddess-be-damned no. I'm shamed by my own body's reaction right now in review of that memory! How could it betray me like this?

But even so, it's not like I... _Or that I find her personality and knowledge of magic appealing..._

I burrow my flustered face into my hands.

"I need more bitter tea."

When evening arrives I close shop early. It's embarrassing as I'm not an undisciplined teenager anymore, but I am not suffering anymore with this stubborn **part** of me, especially with thoughts of a certain someone still freshly circulating through my mind. Leaning back against the headboard of my bed and staring up at the ceiling, I hesitantly wonder what it would be like to hold her close. Are moments like that out of my reach? Or better yet, hold her here, possibly sprawled out under...

Anyway, I take care of business and head into, regardless of my measures, a fitful sleep.

|l|l ₪ l|l|

A/N: I'm always worried about whether something is too risqué for this rating.  
>I would hopefully never go farther into detail without good warning, however.<p>

Also, I apologize for the boring chapter. If I wasn't worried about some proper  
>characterrelationship development, I would probably skip to all the fun stuff, you know.

One more thing. I'm probably a big pervert or idk. I'm not apologizing for that tho'.  
>I wonder how many people are wondering "WHY BRYNN OMG NO e.o"...<p> 


	7. SPIRITED BLOOD : Lann, Part 1

SPIRITED BLOOD: Lann

_Blood_ is thicker than water. Thicker than tea, too.

I find myself glaring daggers at the Magician when his back is turned. My face falls flat when he's looking, and that's probably a good thing as I don't want a repeat of the time he had spiked my potions... That time is never to be mentioned again. But anyway I can't help myself from feeling this pissed; I know something is going on between him and her. Not only does _she_ spend a lot of time around _him_ already, recently _she_ has been acting nervous and jumpy, especially when _this man_ is mentioned. A really intense, sick emotion festers in my core, making me want to tear him apart—my comrade, my potion maker!

I have this really annoying lump in my chest, and it becomes painful the more I think about it or her. I'll admit I'm not as eloquent with words as I am with swords in battle, though I wouldn't say I'm abhorrent to a degree that deserves to be compared to Gallagher. I'm a likeable enough person right? I just prefer things simple and clear, honest. I don't like dancing around the point like a girl unless it's going to run me through my middle.

A sigh escapes, staring up at the ceiling of my room in the inn. Another sleepless night. There is a lot to think about, and not just her; my mind keeps shifting to thoughts before I came to Colhen, a town mostly forgotten by the world, and the battles I'd been fighting ever since that tragic night. Funny thing is, I think that night started out a lot like what I'm doing now. Staring at the ceiling, somehow not able to sleep, then...

I clench my hands into fists. I relax my them. Over and over, again. They itch to hold a sword, or maybe even throw something. But tantrums never solve anything, and in fact make more problems instead.

I mustn't forget why I'm out here in Colhen, why I joined the mercenaries against the endless onslaught of monsters who call themselves Fomors. It's not even just for revenge, but for the peace I wish we could have… And especially for the people who can't defend themselves. I don't know why the Fomors do the things they do, attacking defenceless people, but having seen… what I've seen … I will take up my swords and bring them to their knees, whether they're willing or not.

The walls that surround my brooding bulk suddenly feel suffocating, and the urge to go somewhere sweeps me off the bed onto my feet.

†•†•†

"'Clubbing' was never really my thing either, honestly. Too many drugs and drunks." She joked, referring to the club that caused me to go flying, and _going clubbing_. "That's why it's always better to go with friends." She smiled cheekily as she took to my side like a partner I've been fighting with forever. She effectively covered my back as I tore through the enemies and broke their ranks.

For once, I'd decided to take a good look at her, and she looked a lot more reliable now than she did at first. Maybe it was the calm smile, maybe it was the realization that my first impression of the woman was wrong, I don't know. Though I started watching her more closely after that moment where she helped me in a pinch, and I saw her facial expressions as they changed from perky, to concerned, to determined… Her eyes roved the crowds as she picked out enemies with much more deliberation than my ad hoc plans. I supposed it made sense, considering she was a ranged attacker and I needed to think on my feet, but she also had to watch her own back too. Anyway, she wasn't as weak as what I had judged her to be, despite her lightly armed person and cheery attitude.

I had groaned at the bad pun, however. "You're hilarious."

She giggled in response, a little too well timed with some sort of blast from her staff that nearly beheaded a—no, that gnoll was _definitely_ dead. Goddess, I've done a lot worse but I can't even pull off that sort of apathy when I'm cutting up bodies. A feeling of irony almost makes me spill my own giggle, though I hold it back with a grim smile.

Despite the dangerous setting, I was grateful for her presence. Though it didn't change the burden that fight's importance put on our shoulders, having her by my side seemed to reignite my motivation to move forward into the fray.

†•†•†

This isn't exactly where I pictured I'd be when I went out for air, sitting at the dark, empty docks with the fire long gone and the loud hum of crickets serenading the town. I don't know what time it is, but the moon is bright and clearly visible right now. Perhaps it is midnight. Armed with a whiskey bottle, and alone, tonight I think I'll drink until I pass out. I need to sleep, for tomorrow Evie, Fiona, and I are heading back to the place that nearly kicked our asses more than a few times we've been there.

I pop the cork and take a short swig. I take it slow so that I won't get sick, learning my lesson from the first time I remember drinking.

_Aye, 'lo, they, know,  
>We stack the barrels high and low.<em>

A song from the town I came from comes to my lips, a song usually sung by those drinking. Mindful of the slumbering town, I keep my voice low. I stop once in a while to take a swig.

_But if she falls, let her go,  
>Aye, 'lo, they, know.<em>

_I wed her on that cliff right there,  
>looking upon Poseidon's lair.<br>Months passed while I was at sea,  
>she wasn't looking out for me.<em>

_Aye, 'lo, they know,  
>We stack the barrels high and low.<br>But if she's gone, let her go,  
>Aye, 'lo, they know.<em>

It's about letting things go when misfortune strikes you, though I don't sing it because it's relevant to how I feel right now. I don't sing because I like singing, either. I do it… because I'm getting drunk and need something to do. Yeah, doesn't sound like a very good reasoning to me either. Oddly though, it reminds me of home in good and bad ways. The people weren't always the nicest, and that's by far not the best music they made, but for all of its faults and good points, it was mine to call home. My childhood home, my friends, my family, the nostalgic places I loved and hated and loved to hate… Just for tonight, I let these feelings rise to the surface.

"_If she burns, let 'er go-o…_ Aye, 'lo, I kno-ow…" I sigh, a depression strangling the song into silence.

"You sing well, for a drunkard, Lann."

I startle badly, a wave of dizziness causing the world around me to blur into one messy shlop of dark paint. Goddess forgive! That scared the living shit out of me. Ergh, I think I should stop drinking. Besides me, who would be out at this hour at the docks?


	8. SPIRITED BLOOD : Lann, Part 2

~ SPIRITED BLOOD II ~

* * *

><p>Back then, it was just us two.<p>

Twin sky swords in hand, I dashed forward as a dangerous tornado of knives. If the gnolls were going to behave like fomors, I could not show mercy for as long as they would attack humans. As Crow and I hurled ourselves at the army of gnolls, I remembered Gwnn's sorrow to losing her troops, and it caused a part of me to ache in harmony, the old… and yet fresh, burning melody of war and the eerie quiet after all screams were silenced.

I was trembling with rage at the time, just staring out at the rushing mobs. How could I forgive the fomors in my memories, or these gnolls reflecting them, who willingly take up arms against innocent people? Lives, families, all torn asunder… and for what?

I am not trying to raise humanity on a pedestal, as I know there are bastards out there of our own kind that would do just the same with the right price. But this… I brooded, bitter thoughts running through my skull.

And Paradise. What a joke. Worst excuse for a war ever…

Just when I was deep into angst and rage, I felt her close by my side, and her hand that patted my back none-too-gently. I turned to glare at her, only to see the impish and almost evil expression painting her face something frightening. I was caught off guard and knocked out of my grieving by what she said that time.

"Hey… I need you to start watching my back and not the past, okay?" Crow told me with an understanding smile, "We're an army of two against a hundred. As long as you're watching, I'm not worried. So I'm counting on you!"

There was not much I could say to that. The snarling anger, like a shroud of madness that had obscured my ability to tell friend from foe, lifted and in its place stood an equally strong determination. I remembered that revenge wasn't the only reason I decided to pick up the swords. I wanted to fight to protect the future, religious bull or not.

We settled into a nice rhythm from then on. Sometimes I'd fly forward and decimate the crowds, and on others she would let her flames roar forward and explosions would rock the corridors and rooms of the Perilous Ruins. Missions with my magician partner were exhilarating, satisfying, and dangerous - but we worked.

There were times of course where the pace would need to slow down, and we would camp out and rest… It were those times that we truly grew to know each other.

It occurred to me once that I never figured out why she decided to become a mercenary.

"My reasons are more selfish than yours." She whispered cryptically in reply, as if it were a secret she couldn't risk losing. "I wanted… to change my world. This was the only way I could think of."

The amount of emotion she had put into her voice made me pause, and whatever I had wanted to say was suffocated by the ensuing silence. What was I supposed to say to that? Had she been through a trying experience before joining the Crimson Merc's?

* * *

><p>"You sing well, for a drunkard, Lann."<p>

I whirl around at the familiar voice, and to my surprise—and partway horror—it is Evie whose voice I heard. Despite being caught singing like the drunk fool I currently am, nothing in her stance is giving away any sign of negative judgement. I can't see her facial features very well, though I know her silhouette well from nights sharing a camp together in lengthy missions away from Colhen. Her hair is loose from its usual braid, tumbling in dark waves down her back. Her pyjamas are loose and ruffled. She looks like she's been in bed until a minute ago, but I have to admit I … maybe this is the alcohol … but I think she manages to look good wearing anything.

I could phrase that better. Oh well, it's true, at least for me.

"Lann?" She questions, noticing my staring.

We have been standing steps apart from each other, but now she decides to come take a closer look. I can feel my heart beating like the drums of war in my ribcage as the details I couldn't see before in the dim light of the moon become clearer. She's so close now, I could just reach out and take her hand in mine if she would let me. Whenever she's close like this, I pay attention to all the details I seemingly miss before … like how how all that hair when loose tries to cover up the milky and beautifully smooth skin of her neck, how those long eyelashes seem to flutter invitingly over a glowing gaze, how those full lips call for attention …

I remember the hug we shared in the General shop weeks ago, and it doesn't sound like a bad idea right now. My body almost moves on its own accord as I pull hers flush against mine in an embrace, burying my head in that warm neck. I can feel her inhale sharply in surprise, but she doesn't seem to move away.

"L… La-"

"-Evie." I interrupt. She sound shocked, but I can't tell if it's a negative or positive kind. "You are my comrade, my best friend, and … so much more I can't find words for. You're so- … so rare, I can't imagine there being anyone else … that I would rather have at my side …"

I don't know whether this is a good idea or not, but my next action is probably where it would go wrong.

Drawing back my head from her shoulder, I kiss her, in the dark there at the docks with the scent of alcohol tainting my kiss.


	9. WIND SPRITE: Evie, Little Miss Runaway

**Recap:**

**It is the night before the big mission to fight the Blood Prince.**

Lann, noticing the sexual tension between his potion-maker and his long-time companion (not going to mince words here), has trouble sleeping that night and decides to instead go drinking alone like a loser at the docks (complete with song and dance). When Evie goes to check up on him (because that's what friends do), he basically drops his marbles, figuratively speaking, and kisses her.

_A/N: Also, sorry for my extended absence. I had run out of steam for this story, but your reviews really granted me sudden inspiration. I am now desperately writing before this 'second wind' runs out! Please excuse the mess in here! If there are any mistakes, feel free to point them out. (And no, the 'NEXT' button is naturally like that until the author has written the next chapter. lol)_

(Continued from last chapter...)

Life hasn't been very fair to Lann. It hasn't been fair to any of us, as far as I know. Despite knowing this, I can only react in part ways shock and denial to his feelings... and very emphatically, at that. I can't possibly know how Lann views our relationship, but for me, he has always been my best friend or even my goofy older brother (I've never had siblings, but I always picture Lann like that). He was someone I could always trust to love me unconditionally, and I treated him the same in return. Perhaps in hearing this, you can begin to understand why it's such a cold shock to hear that 'my brother' loves me in a very different way.

My mind goes blank, except for the tempest of emotions messing around in it. Shock, denial, **guilt**, panic, and _no, no no!_ **"No."** The word is out before I can restrain it. I slap a hand over my loose lips. That was really loud. Oh goddess save me.

Lann, in an almost amusing manner if not for the serious topic, looks drunkenly flushed and completely bewildered at my reaction. "No? What do you mean, _no?_" He holds my shoulders away from him and looks me straight in the face. "No, _what?_"

Seriously, I agree with him, who reacts to someone's feelings with just a loud 'No' ? He was being so sincere with me, and I just cruelly rejected him without a thought to his feelings. Granted, I hadn't meant to say it, but still.

Guilt overtakes the shock and I look down at his chest, not able to look him in the eyes. I twitch uncomfortably in my pyjamas as I force out, "I'm sorry... _really_ sorry... Lann. I don't feel the same way." I wish I could say I plan to stay and talk it out with him, he looks like has been holding back for a while, but every molecule in my body is screaming at me to flee, from the guilty tears in my eyes to the sock-less toes sweating in my shoes. I'm quivering like a leaf in fear and I literally can't... I need... To...

I give into the urge, and turn tail like the coward I am. At this point I have no idea how I will face him tomorrow in the mission, or how I will explain to Fiona what's going on. Am I with Brynn? What does he feel toward me, and why do I care? But Lann likes me! How long has this been going on? What do I feel about that? Do I really not feel anything? I can't. I can't. I can't.

**.**

**CHAPTER 9  
>Evie, Little Red Runaway<strong>

**.  
><strong>

When I was a little girl, I lived with my parents out in the countryside, almost as far from Rocheste as you could get in the territory that housed the last vestige of humanity... Anyway, my parents and I were simple people that led simple lives, far from rich but not exactly poor as long as we had the farm. Yes, we were farmers, and everyday our minds were consumed with the welfare of our crops. It was our everything.

Things hadn't been going so well in those last few weeks before I left for Rocheste. Perhaps it was a mistake due to stress, or perhaps it wasn't a mistake after all... Either way, we were suffering along with our crops. I was too young to understand why it was turning out like that, but my parents' nerves were frayed, and yelling in the house became a more frequent occurrence. My parents loved each other, so they never dared hit each other, but sometimes—even if I was a child, I could tell—they were really close to doing so. Father would turn and throw a dish or leave to chop firewood, and mother would stand very still for a few minutes, before eventually turning to do some household chore.

I remember a conversation they had in the week before I was sent away. I was in the next room, my bedroom, and I was supposed to be sleeping, but incidentally I heard everything...

"How do you think we're going to be able to afford to keep the farm at this rate? Everything's ruined... They took away everything." Mother cried at this point, but this soon became muffled, supposedly by my father comforting her.

"I know you don't want to think about it, and trust me I don't either, but... I think it would be better for all of us if we..."

There was a soft thump as mother seemed to push him away. "How can you say that? Evie's our only daughter! We're already losing the farm, how can we give away the only precious thing we have left!"

My heart thumped loudly in my chest. I couldn't connect the dots; I couldn't understand what I was hearing. What could they possible be talking about? _Giving up? _Giving up_ what?_

My father's voice was strained, but placating, "Think about it, Amelia. At this rate, we're going to be poor and barely supporting ourselves, nonetheless a growing child."

She didn't say anything for a while, and I was actually starting to fall asleep, when she finally said, "I don't trust that man. I don't know why, but the way he talked about our child... like she was an object to be bought... I don't know, but it seems wrong! I can't entrust my child to someone like that..."

"I know, Amelia. Neither do I want to." He sighed. "I don't know what else we can do, though."

A few weeks later I was sold to a rich, old mage named Argeld. Our first meeting was when he came to pick me up at our door to bring me to Rocheste. He had the widest smile, as if he had just won something. I hesitantly smiled back.

"Forgive us, Evie. Your mother and I really love you, but things will only get better if you go with Argeld. You'll see." My father's hand smoothed the hair on my head. "Everything will be fine."

Then my mother tearfully handed me a bag with some of my stuff in it, which was soon taken away by Argeld's escort.

"Ah, he'll carry it for her." Argeld explained to my alarmed parents with an unchanging smile, "We can't let the precious thing strain herself."

.əɪʌə.ʍoɹɔ.əɪʌə.ʍoɹɔ.əɪʌə.ʍoɹɔ.

Needless to say, I haven't seen that bag since that guard had first taken it, and I had a rough time with Argeld. I couldn't tell whether he wanted to kill me in an experiment or keep me as his bargaining chip, the perfect little lady to be wed off to some rich family. I don't know how he found out I could do magic, my parents and I never really went into town often enough to have to worry about people finding out about my oddities, but he made it clear quickly that my ability to use magic was the only reason I was there.

I didn't like the nobles' children and they didn't seem to like me, so I spent a lot of my time alone in libraries and Argeld's study reading up on all sorts of magic. He would force me to go with him to town sometimes, mostly for show rather than for leisure, and I would often be seen wearing the most frilly, lacy dress, the kind you would only expect on a doll. Despite my urge to run away at these times and the amount of dislike I had for Argeld, I have to admit I enjoyed these times around town the most. I met a lot of interesting people—before Argeld politely cut in and pulled me away. I remember the young flower girl my age who gave me a daisy, and how we laughed at a Royal Army recruit at the bar who was drunk and bawling loudly, generally making a nuisance of himself to all the others like him at that table.

When Argeld spotted me, I had to say goodbye. I didn't want him talking to my new friend. Argeld could smile and be polite, but I knew better than to trust him with anything important to me.

.əɪʌə.ʍoɹɔ.əɪʌə.ʍoɹɔ.əɪʌə.ʍoɹɔ.

I'm sorry this isn't exactly an amusing story to tell or even think about. I don't like to generally think about it either. In fact, I'm not sure why I feel compelled to right now. Perhaps it is the stress and overbearing guilt from running away last night.

This is a very quiet, awkward boat ride. It's giving me way too much time to think.

Fiona has been looking like she wants to say something for a while now, but hasn't been sure how to start. She's closer to asking me, however, and I can guess why. Lann is at the other end of the boat looking dark and furious like the day I met him.

I don't blame him. You already know why, though.

I'm not surprised when Fiona sits beside me, and nudges my shoulder. "Hey..." Not wanting to hear her use an awkward conversation starter (I've had more than enough awkward moments lately) I lean my shoulder against hers, sighing, effectively interrupting her.

"Fiona... I'm an idiot."

I start with telling her about Brynn.


	10. Oh my Goddess, are we…

**EXEUNT  
><strong>

**Oh my Goddess, are we there yet?**

* * *

><p>By the time I'd explained everything, including the incident with Lann, we'd arrived at Ainle. Fiona had given me an intense look, but we agreed to continue the talk later when there was time.<p>

All she said in comment before we exited the boat with Lann was "I want to be angry with you, but I know it's not your fault..." Anger? I feel stupid for not understanding, but I don't really understand what part of what I said is making her angry. I glance down at Fiona's hand, and see her knuckles are white over her sword. I didn't expect such a scary reaction from Fiona...

Now it's time to stop this ritual. My mind inevitably crosses over Brynn again, and I bite my lip as I try to stem the embarrassment as well as guilt that swells to the surface.

°.°.°  
>(Today before Ainle)<p>

Whenever I returned to Brynn's, it seemed my everything became a little more confusing. The space between us through the familiar noise, looks, and movements felt so hot it was certainly going to become scathing if he came any closer. For this reason, I demurely stepped behind a table and let it discretely separate us. My little barricade against this intense... _whatever_ was going on between us. Though it's not like it mattered anyway, for he was always moving. Not willing to give my discomfort away by moving as well, I leant against the table, pretending to examine the floating sword he always had floating there.

"What do you think about this ritual? What is it for?" I asked him.

He was busy at the moment, but he seemed to give the question some thought as he went. Watching him shuffle vials of potions around and humming in thought surprisingly gave such a familiar, casual atmosphere that I could feel myself unwittingly relaxing. When he started giving his theories on the situation in Ainle, I listened intently, nodding in places as I found my memories congruent with his thoughts.

In short, Brynn felt that all the evidence up til now might've been in preparation for something big, such as a summon. If it was a summon, there was no telling what kind it would be. It could be an army of undead, or it could be an unfathomable monster. There was no way to tell and there was no time to investigate. It had to be stopped!

At the end of the explanation I sighed, eyes clouding over grimly, "I thought so..." I shivered, realizing the implications. Since the Royal Army had forbidden anyone from entering Ainle, _we the rulebreakers three_ would be fighting alone... Oh, this was going to **suck**. All my past visits to Ainle had ended in injury. Broken bones; a concussion and unconsciousness lasting for days. What was going to happen this time? Death? I grimaced at seeing the pattern developing.

Preoccupied with my pessimism, I hadn't realized Brynn had paused in moving past me. So I startled as an arm suddenly wrapped around me and a warmth pressed against my back. My cheeks coloured as Brynn hugged me, or, as well as one can hug with one free arm...

He murmured in embarrassment, "I'm sure you're aware I'm not very skilled at... cheering people up." I'm sure this was a reference to the awkward tea party we had when we first met, thanks to Tieve. "However, you are a competent mage, and you are the only one who understands how magic circles work. Your companions need you."

Yeah... that didn't really help my grim outlook on life right now, but hugs from the stoic Brynn are nice! My shoulders shook with giggles, and before I knew it, I was crying. I don't know how. I'm sure this was a terrifying experience for the socially inept Brynn. It was probably even more appalling that I started crying after he attempted to cheer me up.

However, the arm tightened around me, and I brought a hand to clutch his sleeve, feeling grateful for him being there (even if he is stoic and awkward at times). I willed the crying to stop. I didn't need to be such a pussy about this, I told myself firmly. Like he said, I was a competent mage, and I could protect myself. I didn't die yet so far, and I would do my best to keep myself—and all of us—alive.

His other arm swung around and hung two bottles of stamina potions in front of my face. The green liquid shimmered with flecks of brown, which I could see clearly from this close. I blinked, and could feel my shaking slowly cease. Were these normal stamina potions? I curiously, gingerly, took them from him, and he loosened his hold on me. I took this opportunity to turn around.

Before I could ask him, however, he explained, hesitantly, "I thought on what could help you. I've given Lann and Fiona plenty of fine HP and Energy potions already, but then realized you would be less likely to use those... Instead, I've prepared some Stamina potions for you."

"They look different." I commented, glancing up at him.

He coughed, his eyes flickering away from mine. "Yes, well... Cinnamon."

"Cinnamon?"

"I thought you would prefer it to the usual taste."

You mean these can taste _good? _If these can taste good, why do Health potions usually taste like crap?

Brynn caught me gawking at the potions and coughed to get my attention. I flushed, packing away the bottles in a bag. It is wise to not offend your potion supplier. "Thank you."

"Always, Evie."

°.°.°

We've reached a wide area with an altar and 3 clear pathways branching from it. I recognize this for what it is and mention it to the others.

"So this is where it will happen..." Fiona says with a frown.

Lann scowls and in a fierce growl he corrects, "Not if we stop it! How do we do this, _Evie?_"

I bite back a _'The name is _Crow _to you, mister' _and instead explain, "There are three pillars and three passagesways. It's not a coincidence; three is a strong number in magic. Judging by how they are slowly rising, we should hurry and kill whatever is supporting this ritual at the end of these halls."

Fiona sighs. "I know this isn't going to be easy, but it seems like we're going to have to split up. There's no time."

After voicing our agreements, we each take a path.

My path ends up being the Ashen. How nostalgic... At least I am equipped for a battle of magic. I can counter his fireballs with ice, and having fought him once before, I know how to defeat him this time. The trick will be finding the opportunity to use ice spear... There may be no time for that. I'll have to stay light on my toes and just constantly attack it with my normal attack and ice blast.

I dodge under a fireball, feeling a thrill rip through my body at the smooth move and feeling like a boss. Sweeping my staff under his feet, icy spikes erupt from the ground as it passes by, gunning for his crotch. It's not like there's anything there. No matter how I look at Ashen, he's still a skeleton instead of the vampires I've read in books. Unfortunately, my enemy is pretty boss himself for a reason, and flames explode all around him, throwing me back violently and destroying my ice.

I groan, not having put up mana shield because of being caught off guard. I can feel the burns on my skin sting painfully. I raise my hand and the comforting green sparkles of the Healing Corona do their job, soothing the pain along the way. I throw myself to the side and propel myself further out of the line of fire (literally) with a magic arrow. Landing in a crouch somewhere off to Ashen's side, I immediately fire off a stream of arrows at the opening before dodging again.

This pattern goes on for a while before I see the skeleton preparing a fireball. I hold my staff out and focus as well, preparing an ice spear. I really need to strew this together before he fires. I don't quite manage it to its full potential, but I fire what I've got anyway. It's about the size of a barrel, but at least it's sharp.

It flies as I dodge to the side, using flying sparrow to get extra distance. My eyes are riveted to my half-hearted ice spear, urging it to overcome the fire. I wince as the fire melts away at it, but cheer as it comes through on the other side of the fire as a decent enough chunk to knock Ashen's skull off its shoulders.

Panting, I fall to my knees. Fighting by myself takes a lot more stamina since I need to keep running away from the enemy that is trained solely on me. I grunt unwomanly before hauling myself back up with my legs unsteady. I reach into the pouch at my hip and pull out a stamina potion. After downing it all in one go, I sigh happily at the delicious and invigorating taste.

"Alright. Please let me make it in time!" I plead, running back through the passageway to the ritual's centre.

* * *

><p><em>AN: Hey, you know, maybe I'll actually finish this story. This is the longest story I've ever published, lol_._ I've been writing oneshots of possible scenes between Brynn and Evie between writing the last chapter and this one, though I don't think they're good enough to post... One of them involves Brynn having a magical accident that causes him to float to the ceiling of his shop, and another is him trying to tell Evie he's the boy she once knew (same universe as this one)... Oh, also started writing a scene of Brynn going on his own adventure through the dungeons of Argeld's manor to save Evie. That one has a naughty ending and is fun to think about, though I think it's unlikely to happen. :c  
><em>


	11. Dancing with the Prince

SORRY FOR THE LONG A/N: When I'd first started (written, not posted) this story, **Karok** hadn't quite come out yet, and after a while it was a bit hard to fit him in no matter how much I adore Karok. Suddenly getting a new team mate while you're on a "secret" mission to Ainle is hard to work with. Though, I've always fancied Karok having a **thick, foreign accent** for some reason, and I thought scenes of him man-handling Lann would be very funny. Sexy is also very new—oh dear, did I say sexy? I meant **Kai**—so I am not sure where to put him in either. I figure I should finish this story and then include the two other boys in the next story of the series, Arcanus... if it ever sees the light. But don't worry, I don't plan on suddenly quitting writing Vindictus fiction. It's way too fun.

Also, the rating is officially being bumped up to Mature for adult themes. It irritates me that the "T" rating includes 9-year olds (ORLY? Since when are 9-12 year olds considered **Teens**, fanfiction-dot-net?). Their rating system change is really stupid, but if I want my story to not be erased, I have to label this according to their definitions of ratings. I'm sad that it won't be shown on the main listing now, which might hurt its publicity, but my hands are tied... :c I am considering finding another site. Any changes will be linked in my profile, if you're curious.

BTW, I actually had written two versions of this chapter, that's why it took so long. The first ver, things got a little too kinky between that pile of bones and our hero... Feeling ashamed of myself, I rewrote it to this one. The ending is _really _different, you'll see...

†

**Dancing with the Prince**

It figures that as soon as I step into the main area, a barrier snaps into place. _That_ can't be good...

"Lann? Fiona?" I call out hesitantly when I don't see them. I clutch my staff tightly in front of me as I cautiously move forward.

It is then that I realize the altars have fully extended up and have stopped moving. "Oh gosh no, no!" I shout, looking around wildly. Where is the summon? Has it happened yet? I didn't realize I'd taken so much time... Where are Lann and Fiona? I back away from the altar and search around for anything or anyone.

Suddenly, something comes barrelling out of the sky and knocks me to the ground. Wow. Trust me to be _exactly_ where the summon spawns. Why didn't he arrive near the altars? Why this random spot off to the side? My head swims from being thrown against the ground so violently, and it becomes hard to see straight. A pained groan leaves my lips as I struggle to make the world before my eyes coherent. I must've hit my head hard. That makes this the second concussion I've gotten in Ainle.

While cradling my head on the ground, something sharp traces my side and I startle. Though it's blurry, the image of a man in gold armour is illuminated above me by the flickering flames of the burning surroundings. _Who...? _His skin is almost as pale as bone, but despite this it appears smooth and his frame filled out unlike the skinny skeletons we've seen so far. On top of a mane of black hair rests a gold crown that shines prominently in a cast of crimson light. His figure looms over my own, casting an ominous shadow.

**"After long last, in flesh and blood, I am here."**

In flesh and...

"Vam...pire?" I whisper.

A low, booming cackle sends a chill down my spine. **"Vampire? You humans have such imaginations. I am the Blood Prince."** A hand fists my Blood Silk top and lifts me off the ground. He asks, more like demands, **"And who might you be?"**

My head still aches, but of course he's still insistent for an answer, though I have none for him. **"A sacrifice, perhaps?"** He seems to be walking toward the centre of the area, dragging me toward... toward the altar?!

**"Not a... sacrifice!"** I grit out, seeing my vision start to sharpen in my panic over being killed. But my head feels like it's pounding, making it hard to think.

**"Oh? Not a sacrifice. Then..."** There is a tug on my short skirt, and I react immediately with a kick to his shin, as futile as it is with my wimpy physical strength. **"A whore?"**

I cry out as I'm thrown down against the ground. In a flash of anger I clench the hand my staff is held in, only to realize it is not actually there. Glancing to the side, I see it lying mockingly just out of my reach, a metre away.

A weight settles over me before I can make a move for it, pinning my back to the floor. His head lowers to my neck still wrapped with a tattered blood silk scarf, and breathes in my scent. **"You're dressed in blood. How... appetizing,"** he says with much amusement, "Maybe you _are_ a sacrifice."

I haven't given up yet. I'm not about to passively let him do whatever he wants. Using levitation, I've been trying to summon my staff to me. It's a bit difficult however, as I need focus and he seems to touch me wherever he damn well feels like. Feeling desperation spilling over, I beg my staff to move. It finally whips into my outstretched hand, and I immediately point the tip to his face and fireball.

Maybe it isn't the safest move to use in close-quarters, but I figure his body will absorb most if not all of the impact because he's covering me, so even though we are both consequently thrown, he is the one left with burns.

I pull myself onto my feet, not wanting to be trapped in that situation again.

**"Filthy whore!"** He curses at me. He easily gets back onto his feet, now threateningly brandishing his sword. **"Aren't you the least bit curious as to where your comrades are?"**

"My..." I gasp. Were they taken prisoner? So I was late? I can feel the panic and fear coursing through me as my mind tries to come up with solutions as to what had happened.

"Where are they? Tell me!" I demand, holding up my staff and focusing my power through it.

**"You are quite slow, you know. They arrived here just before you did, and attempted to destroy the altar. Foolish, amusing humans."**

I can feel a weight settle in my stomach. They had touched an active component in a magical ritual? This is bad... If they did, who knows where they are. I could try summoning them _back_, but for that I would need to get close to that altar, and this guy won't let me! Can I... am I really alone in this fight?

°.°.°

Explosions are rocking the area almost successively in this fight. I don't bother using ice, since he is a lot more agile than I am and would render any ice blast/spear a waste of mana. Fireball covers more area and has a higher chance of hitting him. The problem is, he uses them too. At the very least, this means I rarely have to deal with his sword. I am not good with close-quarters combat, considering my low physical prowess. If Lann and Fiona were here, they would definitely be the ones fronting this battle as I supported them, and I would not be constantly running away or using mana amber. I don't even have enough time to swallow any potions.

I shield myself again using amber as I'm hit with a fireball. I'm blasted backwards an impressive distance and crash through some debris lying on the ground. I growl as I exit my shield and break into a run. He's closing the distance fast, his sword ready to run me through my middle. I deflect it away with a barrage of magic arrows, the windy bullets setting it off course into a wall where it winds up embedded quite deeply.

As he goes to retrieve his stuck sword, I charge up another fireball and send it off toward him, dropping right after into a stance in preparation for an ice spear.

It scares the crap out of me when he soon charges right through my fireball, and I prematurely send my ice spear flying. Why do I _never_ manage to finish that move? My bullet of ice cracks and sharp needles hail down at him instead. I breath is laboured from my efforts as he's pelted with them. He falls to his knees with a grunt, not expecting a manoeuvre like that. To be honest, I wasn't either... Oh well, never look a gift horse in the mouth...

Unfortunately, I'm out of stamina from using my mana so much, and I'm panting heavily as I rush forward to finish him while he's down. There is much debris lying around, fragmented and dangerous, so I use that to my advantage. I levitate one to my hand as I rush forward, and with a frustrated roar go for his neck with all my pathetic physical strength combined. Go back to hell where you came from, lecher!

**"Not yet, woman."**

He grabs my wrist and stops it before it can land, and grapples with me. I should have seen that coming. I'm lucky that he's feeling weak, but I know he'll regain strength faster than I will. In fact, as I think this, he's getting up onto his feet, putting me into a disadvantaged position again. I need another plan...

I smack him in the head with my staff and get some distance. He charges after me, and abruptly I change direction and head back toward him. Startled, he is unprepared as I propel myself forward with flying sparrow and tackle him with mana amber fully protecting me. Exiting the crystal after impact, I discharge an ice blast at his torso and trap him on the ground under a layer of ice. While he's struggling to move his arms, I take this time to run for the altar.

I hear the ice breaking and his sword hacking at the remaining ice on him. Feeling the pressure of this fight, I flood the altar with all my mana and intent full on getting Lann and Fiona back. A blinding light floods the room and two figures drop from the sky a little off from the altar, near the spot the Prince had also spawned. "Lann! Fiona!" I cry to them, waving my hands. "Thank goodness you're all right!"

"Crow!"

"Evie!"

They move to join me, also seeming as relieved as I am. But Lann suddenly startles and unsheathes his swords, dashing toward me. I'm confused until I remember the Blood Prince. I whip around in place only to see the devil's face before mine, followed by a beyond painful feeling that wrenches my gut... The man steps back, slowly sliding his sword out of my middle as I watch in stunned agony. The world is blurring as I fall to my knees.

**"...EVIE!"** A man's voice yells, but I am not in my right mind and am unable to distinguish it. It sounds absolutely frightening as it growls. **"Go back to hell, you bastard!"**

Try as I might, I can feel my strength draining in the pool of fluid collecting around me. I close my eyes to prevent the blood from entering them.

Then, I feel nothing.


	12. Fistful of Feathers

**Fistful of Feathers**

It is raining when the heroes return to town. A curtain of water drops down from the sky in a loud torrent minutes before they make it to port, muffling most sounds beside the muddy splashes of two warriors' boots madly dashing through these horrible conditions while carrying a third person; their fallen companion. A man with two sheathed swords holds a woman's limp body in his arms, and an armoured woman with shield and sword runs beside him holding a bundle of cloth in place tightly around the unconscious woman's middle. The two warriors slow to a halt and bow their heads together as they seem to discuss something fervently. After a moment they seem to nod in mutual agreement—the male swordsman looks rather petulant—and they bypass the Crimson Blades' headquarters in favour of the humble shop tucked away in a far corner of Colhen.

The door opens before they even get there, and a rather tussled-looking blond meets them in the doorway. With furrowed eyebrows the shopkeeper's dark eyes rove over the two with confusion, before his attention turns to the body... He takes a small step back as he recognizes it for who it is. His mouth moves as he whispers something, but the sound is swallowed by the storm. After a moment of no one doing anything but staring, an impatient swordsman stomps forward with a fury and insistently holds the limp woman's body out to the blond, shouting something quite clear even through the condition outside.

"HELP HER."

The blond man visibly shakes out of his shock and forces himself to face the two warriors. He gestures them inside.

.

(BRYNN)

.

"She is alive! We thought she was dead but she is _alive!_" Lann, the hotheaded swordsman that looks about ready to punch me, looks so full of conviction as he shouts this. I don't bother mentioning that since I met them in the doorway minutes ago, she hadn't seemed to be breathing.

Instead, I decide to act. I stride up to him and grab her out of his hands myself, laying her on the table—I regret already shoving all those important books off the table onto the wet floor, but I have no time to waste. I also haven't forgotten that I owe her my life. I lean my ear down to Evie's blueish lips, straining to hear a breath. My heart nearly stops when I hear none.

"Her breath stopped minutes ago, and nothing we tried helped. Brynn, please... you have to do something." Fiona, if I recall correctly, explains.

Something twists painfully in my ribcage as I analyze the damage done to poor Evie. Her stomach is still somewhat open and bleeding, though I notice it is slowing. I can already guess without them saying so that they tried feeding her potions and other things to slow her death. As I look for her pulse, I can't help but get trapped in a painful circle of thoughts.

Why couldn't I have done something more to help you? Why did I let you go? All I gave you was some potions before sending you off again without so much as... Why didn't I do more? Was my _pride_ that _important? _Why did I let you go without another word?

I hear her faint heartbeat, and my own pulse quickens. I turn on the spot and rush to get some potions I need. Lann and Fiona jump out of the way as I rush about and come back to the table Evie is lying on. A rattle is heard through the shop as they bump into things.

"I need space to work. Go ahead and inform your superiors of what's happened or elsewise stay out of the way." I say tersely without facing them, focused on saving Evie.

Lann sounds indignant, but with a glance sideways I see Fiona gently grabbing his arm and urging him to follow her outside. Excellent. That's two distractions gone. I don't know how they would react to what I'm about to do next.

I uncork a bottle and take a large swig of it, not swallowing. Lowering my head and tightly pressing my lips to hers, I force-feed her the potion I need her to take orally. With one hand on her mouth and the other at her throat, I hold her lips firmly shut as I rub her throat to encourage her to swallow. _Yes, if the __swordsman had seen that, I'm sure he would not let me work in peace for the rest of the night._ Luckily she does swallow the potion, once again proving that she is still very much alive—though it is fading quickly...

I need to dress her wounds and fully close them, though it is difficult to get her clothes off as the blood has seemingly fused to her skin with how sticky it is. The potion I gave her should help her replenish the blood she's lost, but that will be for nought if it just bleeds out again. In the end I have to resort to scissors and careful peeling, though my usually dexterous hands are uncharacteristically not wanting to be still. For such a critical time, it frustrates me that I'm so clumsily fumbling about like a... newborn. Like a newbie.

If I try to relate this to the previous times I've tended to her injuries, perhaps I can calm down with the comforting familiarity of a routine. Evie always gets hurt, and I consequently always help her pull through.

If this is supposed to help me gain some peace of mind, it is doing no such thing. I can clearly see the matter right now as her dancing over the line of life and death. Unlike broken bones and concussions, you cannot 'fix' death.

The sound of the door opening again brings the deafening sounds of the storm with it, and I feel my patience snap.

"Unless I'm mistaken, I _thought_ I told you to **leave**." I bite angrily at the mercenary/mercenaries that dared disturb me right now. I feel my temper flaring under my skin as I keep my eyes stubbornly rooted to my patient.

A rather familiar voice different from the two mercenaries from before addresses me unperturbed by my outburst. "Calm down, it's me, Brynn."

I feel myself cooling considerably, the anger being replaced by a weary anxiety that has been developing since I started. Nyle slowly walks up to the table where I am working on Evie. He silently watches as I pour and smear some unidentifiable (to anyone other than me, anyway) liquids in and around the large wound. When I start dressing the wound he asks quietly if he may do it instead. Rather than sympathy for the victim, I am guessing the reason he asked is likely because of my visibly shaking hands.

"Let me handle this. The bandages should be just tight enough."

I almost rub my face in my hands, but stop short when I realize they're covered in blood. _Her _blood. I sigh. It comes out as a shuddering breath, revealing a bit of the shock I'm having. This further adds to my aggravation as a man in shock is little help in this situation.

My eyes gravitate to Evie's face, which is untouched but still dripping with blood on one side, presumably from having fallen into a pool of it... I close my eyes and turn away, giving myself a chance to just breathe for a moment. After pulling myself together, I head to the bathroom for a basin of water and a towel. I should at least clean her face, so I can see her properly.

.

(LANN)

.

It struck me just now that the last thing I said to her was bristling with so much anger and bitterness. Does she think I hate her? While she's struggling for her life, possibly never meeting the morning, I feel a dreadful cold inside myself when thinking that her last memory of me is not something happier. Though I was piss drunk last night, I remember clearly how she was shaking in fear under the hands that held her shoulders. It hurts me to think that she would be scared to face me...

After informing the Mercenary Outpost, the captain ordered us to bed rest and recovery. I am weary in body, mind, and soul, but there will be no sleep for me. All I can do is sit here in bed, thinking, recalling, regretting, and waiting.

.

(FIONA)

.

I have always been the good friend, but this time I am not. If I am honest with my feelings right now, I am mostly concerned for Lann. I am worried about Crow... or Evie? I am worried about her as well, but seeing _his_ broken expression as he slumps against the bed post just staring listlessly at the door... It's already well into the morning, and I stubbornly stay by his side, worrying for him while he worries about _her._ I can't help but feel... all the things I should definitely not be feeling as the Good Friend.

With all this time to think, and the best atmosphere, I guess it's inevitable that negative thought would arise.

.

(BRYNNIE AGAIN)

.

I'm filling a small basin with water to soak the towel in. It is definitely not a challenging task at all, but it seems to take an extensive amount of time to accomplish. My mind is elsewhere, on regrets, wishes, hopes, and on a puzzling question that seems to not want to let me go. What makes me wonder is how Evie is still alive, when she clearly got cleaved in the stomach and lost a lot of blood... Her blood had not only been dangerously low, but it had flooded her lungs and other organs... As much chagrin as it gives me to admit this, but my potions are not _that_ good. They are much like powerful, immediate supplements. Or first aid kits, even. I know the limitations of my work, so something _else_ must have been keeping Evie alive. Something... that I can't exactly figure out. It's frustrating.

"Brynn," Nyle's voice shakes me out of my ponderous contemplation as it calls out, "Bring the water and towel here. I believe you'll want to see this."

Curious and concerned, I make my way back to the room where Evie is still laying pale and deathly still on the table. Nyle is somewhat blocking my view of her, hunched over and intently watching something. His shoulders are tensed and his hands are holding unused bandages pointedly away from the injured area that he was to wrap. I walk up to the table with a wary step because of my tenant's behaviour.

Something odd gleams through a thick layer of drying blood. Taking the wet towel in hand, I clean the area until I can clearly see what odd thing we've encountered.

With a phosphorescent blue glow, resembling a tattoo no bigger than the diameter of a clenched fist, a **magic circle** softly pulsates on her lower right abdomen. My breath catches in my throat as I freeze in shock. _What in the world ... is this?_


	13. Seeing Circles

A/N: My family and I have gone through a few crises. This usually happens, which is why I leave for such loooong periods often, so I'm sorry for all reviewers who were looking forward to this finishing. I can't promise anything, anymore. However, while I have the time, I figured I might as well revive a dying story that I enjoyed writing so much. It comes unplanned and probably with mistakes, but here is chapter 13 of Exeunt. Thank you so much for reading this far. I usually don't get much of a response for my stories, so it was encouraging—thanks to every one of you!

(Last time on Exeunt...)

With a phosphorescent blue glow, resembling a tattoo no bigger than the diameter of a clenched fist, a **magic circle** softly pulsates on her lower right abdomen. My breath catches in my throat as I freeze in shock. _What in the world ... is this?_

"**Seeing Circles"**

After some hesitation, I have cautiously cleaned the blood around the wounds. For a little while, until she wakes up, I will be monitoring her condition closely. There is something unsettling about what we've seen, but I do not have the knowledge or research required to dissect this construction on Evie. Therefore, it's been decided that she will stay in the guest room for now, until she can be moved. Usually it is Nyle sleeping in the guest room, however with this turn of events, we've discussed it, and he has acquiesced for tonight.

Her hand lays by her side, I notice, and I gently wrap mine around hers. Her hands are cold but soft. In a way, her hands are typical of her. She's become more distant since the little girl I met so long ago, but her heart still has the same softness that draws people to her.

"Evie..." I mutter futilely, hoping for some reason that she would wake up, despite all logic telling me it appears unlikely, "You cause me so much trouble. I don't know why I even let you go back there. When you wake up, I am never letting you out of my sight."

Despite the irritation in my words, the thumb on my trembling hand strokes the back of her unresponsive hand. After a moment of silence, I bring her hand up to my lips and, hesitantly, place a kiss on her knuckles.

I replace her hand and exit the room without another word.

* * *

><p>The afternoon sun shines down, determined to break through the grey curtain that descended on this chilly and foggy autumn day. The small birds gathering to steal some food from the chickens startle easily as a nondescript, robed man walks past them to enter the inn of Colhen where mercenaries and the Oracle take residence. He seems to hesitate once past the doorway of the establishment, and he looks around as if searching for something or someone. There is no one in the immediate area. He turns as he considers returning to foggy oblivion, when he is halted by a feminine voice.<p>

"Hello, welcome to our inn," a pleasant greeting sounds from the stairwell, and soon Tieve steps into his line of sight, asking "May I help you, ...?" Sir or madam would usually come here, but cloaked as the man is, she has every right to hesitate in labelling the anonymity in her inn.

A long, pale hand of his reaches up to his collar. With quick and smooth movements, the cloak slides off and is folded over an arm.

Tieve is taken aback in surprise and carefully says, "I wasn't expecting you, Brynn. Did something come up in your research about..."

Brynn keeps his composure as always, but with a careful look one can see the signs of weariness and worry on his face. There are bags under his eyes likely from a lack of or restless sleep, and he seems to have gained a pallor more _sickly_ than simply pale. Nevertheless, his posture is perfect and he still manages to give off an air of unsociable scholasticism. If Tieve wasn't familiar with Brynn, she would have trouble noticing these things at all, but she is and she does. The worry shows on her honest face.

He chooses to avoid talking about himself however, interrupting her before she can get another word out, "It isn't anything concrete, but I have my suspicions. Do you happen to know all who are here right now? It is important we be discrete about this."

Hesitantly, Tieve answers, "It's still early in the day, but most of all the mercenaries have left, as you can see. Oh, but Lann and Fiona are still here. They are upstairs..."

"Alright. I will join them, then." Expecting that to be taken as a dismissal, he nods to Tieve and moves to go past her.

She grabs his arm before his foot lands on the stair, startling him. He recovers his balance and awkwardly steps back to turn to her. The worry is even more noticeable as she quietly asks, "Brynn, will Evie wake up? It has been so long, and we are really worried."

Ever so slightly, Brynn seems to wilt, his head bowing and shoulders dropping in what she recognizes now as depression. He has been just as worried as well, if not more so with the burden of Evie's future on his shoulders. At this moment, Tieve sees the stress and depression are eating away at him, and suddenly feels guilty for even asking. She knows that he is doing all he can; she can see the tenderness in his movements whenever he tends to their unconscious friend, and being the only one they can trust with this matter who has the knowledge and skills has to be... very hard on him, even without mentioning.

"We haven't given up hope, Brynn... I know you can do this, but please take care of yourself."

He nods solemnly, not trusting himself to speak. Slowly, he continues on his way upstairs to the room where Evie has been unconscious for 2 weeks straight.

* * *

><p>Like Tieve said, Fiona and Lann are currently with Evie. At first glance they seem relaxed with Fiona sitting back limply in a chair in the corner and Lann bent over in one by the bed, yet the atmosphere is incredibly uncomfortable. No one dares speak, and for once Brynn reads the atmosphere and understands. It almost feels like this is perhaps a bad time. <em>No, this is a perfect time<em>, he bolsters his mind, _this matter is too important to delay any further. I need to talk to Lann and Fiona._ Belatedly, he notices that the dual-swordsman has his hand around Evie's unresponsive one, rubbing circles into her cold skin with his thumb. The affectionate gesture is not lost on Brynn, and it unsettles him. He feels a pang of irritation that compels him to occupy Evie's other side.

It's still silent, and seeing as Lann and Brynn are being too stubborn to even talk to each other, Fiona reluctantly takes the initiative to do so.

Crossing her arms, she broaches the topic with a dull tone that speaks volumes of her feelings of the situation. "Brynn."

"Fiona."

"Have you anything new to tell us since we _last_ met?" She asks, keeping her tone.

"Actually, yes."

This catches their attention, and both mercenaries sit up properly to listen to what he has to say. Seeing that he has their interest, Brynn starts.

"I'm sure you remember what I told you about the magic circle, and how I was having difficulty figuring out what it did or how it contributed to her situation if at all."

Fiona nods at him while Lann scowls in aggravation.

"While that has not changed—"

"**Then what are you here for."** Lann bites out, though he is calmed with a word from Fiona. He actually seems to regret his statement as he glances at Fiona's tired face. "Sorry..." He mumbles, then throws a brief look to Brynn.

"... While that has not changed, I have strong suspicions—no, I **believe** I know—where and who the spell on Evie came from."

Fiona looks speechless with shock, but Lann looks ready to kill as he narrows his eyes. The swordsman is the first to speak, and his tone is dangerously low. "Who?"

"I'm sure you remember an old man who came to Colhen looking for her? It is him; Argeld put the magic circle on Evie. I also know the location of the laboratory where he keeps all his illegal research, which we will need for me to derive the solution to Evie's mysterious coma."

At this point, even Lann looks floored by this information. He remembers the conversation the old man had with their captain before he was ordered to look for her. He also remembers how panicked Evie looked when she thought she was caught, as if she was going to break down. Slowly, he brings his thoughts together, and realizes what the situation really is.

"He... That bastard..." He begins, but finds himself becoming too angry to be coherent.

Brynn nods darkly, clasping his hands together tightly as he elaborates, "Yes. It is likely the circle is the outcome of experimentation that Argeld had done on Evie."

Fiona startles as she realizes something as well. "Wait, then, are you saying you can't help Evie unless you have that research?"

"I'll get it for you." Lann states without hesitation. "Just tell me where."

"Lann!" Fiona whispers fervently, not liking how quickly he signed up without knowing or realizing the dangers. "That man is likely a prestigious member of the council! You can't just waltz in demanding he hand over his illegal research."

"Well no, you can't," Brynn cuts in, but quickly adds, "however, the dungeon where he keeps his laboratory is out of sight, and I know of a 'back entrance' if you will. I was once unfortunate to be under his 'care' as well, and I escaped through a hidden passage that he likely still hasn't figured out. I know his habits to some extent, so I know the best time to go. I will even go with you."

He let them mull over that, before concluding his proposition, "There are likely to be some traps or monsters that he has left for defence, but no guards as he doesn't want to risk leaking information about his experiments or research. So I ask you, Fiona, Lann, will you accompany me to Argeld's laboratory?"

The two mercenaries look long at each other, silently debating whether they should risk this operation. In the end, though, they don't have much choice if they want to help Evie. So, reaching a consensus, Fiona then turns to Brynn and confirms it.

"We'll do it. Just tell us where and when."

"The longer we wait, the lower the chances Evie has at waking up from coma. If you are able to, we should leave tomorrow at dawn. Argeld does his 'safe' business in the day that takes him away from his laboratory, so it is the best chance we have."


	14. Laboratory Depths

Author's Note: This doesn't mean I'm back, or active, but I'll leave this here anyways... Sorry about all this. Also, I'm not at all satisfied with this chapter. It's different trying to write from a third-person perspective. I've grown too fond of writing from a biased, emotional, first-person one. Not to mention, my writing style may have changed since the time I started this. This chapter doesn't feel as immersive as the other chapters and I have trouble feeling excited about it. Nonetheless, since I've written something, there's probably no hurt in posting it. It's one step closer to finishing the story, one step closer to reviving my favourite character (and pairing), and one step closer to the fun bits. (Waggling eyebrows) ...If you know what I mean. ;)

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><p><strong>Exeunt . Chapter 14<strong>

**Laboratory Depths**

An awkward trio of Colhen residents tromp about through an eerily silent forest. There is still dew on the leaves and grass in some places, along with the lingering smell of morning, and the remnant chill on the air from the night hits them through their clothes. The sun breaks through the canopy, leaving quaint shafts of light that make the seemingly invisible path just visible enough for Brynn apparently to navigate. It's surprisingly bright for a property owned by someone so twisted as the man they are about to steal from, they think. But Fiona can't help but notice something odd.

"It's early morning, and I'd expect to hear birds somewhere right now, but," she starts.

Lann looks to Fiona and catches onto what she's thinking, finishing for her, "But it's quiet."

She nods. "Either the birds are still sleeping, or..."

"Or they're avoiding this place."

And why? The mercenaries can only wonder to themselves what can be so bad about a hidden dungeon that frightens the world's most chattiest wildlife into silence. Meanwhile, Brynn was noting how good they were becoming at finishing each other's sentences.

"We're here." Brynn tells the other two, stopping right in front of a completely moss-covered patch of ground.

"Where's _here?_ I don't think this is even near the manor." Lann questions in disbelief.

Brynn folds his arms and gives a flat look as he explains, "The dungeons are underground, thus they can extend to any size the builders want it to be, granted the property permits. This also makes it convenient for us, because any hired help guarding the manor will likely be focused _near__ the manor_."

"Okay, okay, I get it. I just don't see any entrance..."

Fiona walks forward a bit, only to stop as she feels and hears something different under her feet. The sound of her feet hitting the ground over the mossy patch sounds like wood and not of the density of earth as she was expecting. Moving off the patch, Fiona bends down to inspect it more closely...

"This is...!"

Brynn smiles slightly, though the amusement fades quickly, "Yes, this is the entrance. It is connected to a tunnel that leads down into a hallway. The tunnel itself is hidden behind a false wall, and Argeld isn't one to waste time _exploring_, so he's likely to have never discovered it."

"Well lucky us. Let's go already." Lann cuts in, and the spurred party of three hurries into the secret entrance to the Laboratory Depths.

The trip into the dungeon in the beginning goes surprisingly smoothly, though they are not entirely sure which room should have the research they need. The man had expanded to other rooms in the dungeons because of the amount of research he had been accumulating in the time Brynn last saw this place. They saw this when they thoroughly searched the rooms nearer to the entrance, only to find stacks of trivial research stored in shelves there. Brynn thus came to the conclusion that they would have to search every room until they got to the right papers... but would they have the time?

"The rooms seem themed, at least. All these rooms have had trivial research seeming to be at least related in some respect. The room I last looked at, with the shackles on the wall, had research relating to a certain reptile's scale's properties in various products."

Fiona frowns, but iterates her own conclusion, "If the rooms are themed, then at the very least that means you won't have to go through every file and folder in the room."

They exit the room and head further into the dungeons.

The dungeon is as dark and foreboding as one would expect, a harsh contrast to the eery peace that they had been walking in for hours above ground. The corridors are surprisingly spacious, constructed with large cuts of a dark stone that seem to have gained some moss and mushrooms in its time left unattended. Every step the group makes echoes helplessly further down the barely lit hall, disappearing around corners and into shadowy corners where Goddess-knows-what manner of creatures live. Once in a while they'll hear shifting or groaning that isn't of themselves, keeping them alert and tense. It's quickly becoming mentally draining. Lann in particular is becoming visibly irritated, though they are all affected to different extents. It doesn't help that the lack of action so far has not given them even the chance to release some of their stress.

As they exit another room, a curious clicking sound catches their attention. Reacting first, Fiona brings up her shield and steps before Brynn. Her foresight saves him from a surprise attack as she blocks a few long-shafted arrows that might've severely injured (not to mention impaired) their scholar. Lann is already running forward. With the reflexes of a professional, he is dodging and deflecting where necessary in order to reach the other side of the sudden barrage... He spots a lever that would appear to deactivate the trap they sprung, and lunges for it. _Click, click, click..._ The sound of gears sound out before stopping with a muffled thud. Lann sighs in relief.

Fiona and Brynn hear an end to the arrows, and look over to see Lann waving them over silently. When they regroup, Lann holds a finger up to his lips and approaches a corner, appearing to listen. The other two still, and they listen as well.

Rapidly approaching footsteps are what they hear, and they consequently feel themselves go cold in dread. A moment later they realize the footsteps aren't human, though it does not ease them much. Something wooden crashes near the approaching footsteps, and they feel the low vibrations of a beast's growls. The trio from Colhen raise their weapons defensively.

...

However, none of them are quite prepared for the three-headed monstrosity that's barrelling around the corner, and it is with great pains that the two mercenaries engage it to hold its attention away from the scholar whose expertise is needed to succeed on this mission.

"Eugh! Goddess, this thing stinks!" Lann growls as he slices down across what seems to be the muzzle of some kind of canine on one head.

Fiona doesn't comment, though one glance at her face would make obvious her displeasure as well. Bringing down her hammer with a timed strike, she easily incapacitates another head that resembles the head of a long-necked bird.

It's the middle head that makes the trio uneasy however, and that is because—though warped and misshapen—it is unmistakably _man__-shaped_. The sight of it is altogether disgusting and horrifying to them all.

"Please tell me that isn't what I think it is, Brynn." Lann calls back to Brynn in peaking distress.

Brynn doesn't know how to reassure him. Instead, he says, "I hope you realize now just how important it is that we find the experiment notes for Evie."

"Goddess help us." Lann mutters a prayer, bolstering himself emotionally for another round.

The sounds that exit its mouth however are not words, but senseless growls and garbling. If it was ever human, it wasn't anymore.

Brynn's hand hovers around the end of his staff, and using a curling motion, a glowing ball grows quickly beneath his fingers. His hand leaves his staff as he aims the simple weapon at the artificial beast.

"I advise you step aside for a moment." Brynn warns them a second before releasing the rapidly engorged ball of fire. Fiona and Lann duck out of the way.

The flames engulf the beast, who is no taller than the trio are though is twice as long. The beast lets out garbled shrieks as it writhes, trying to put out the flames that ravage its body. The three watchers standing by can't help but flinch at its dying sounds. They realize after a couple agonizing minutes that death by fire takes a while, and Lann takes pity on the sad beast. Unfortunately, as he moves closer to decapitate it, one of its heavy and very hotly burning arms flails and strikes Lann.

"Lann!" Fiona calls out in alarm.

He lets out a pained hiss, but decaptiates the beast anyway.

Brynn moves forward hurriedly, gesturing choppily with his staff for a healing spell. After it is healed, they bandage it for good measure, if only to prevent it from getting infected while they move about here. The continued their quest in thick, uneasy silence. That is, until Fiona decides that it is just as uncomfortable.

"Well," Fiona says lightly, attempting to break the tension in the group, "that was an altogether emotionally scarring experience."

"If we can help it, I'd rather not go against one of those things again." Lann agrees.

Brynn seconds, "I would have to agree. Imagine living with the man involved in its making, though. I could have _become_ one of them, perhaps."

"I've been curious about that," Fiona admits, "you've said that you used to live here, but aside from that, how were you involved with this monster?"

"And by monster, she means Argeld. Actually, I've been wondering, too. What's that all about?"

Brynn is silent for a bit, and the group starts wondering if she should just not have bothered asking. Perhaps it brought back traumatic memories for him, and he can't even if he wants to. Maybe it is more ethical to let the matter drop, regardless of whether the knowledge might be useful.

Eventually however, and with a visible show of effort, he lets out a strained sigh before explaining.

"Argeld, in status alone, is treated like a noble. He has his hand in the pockets of all the influential aristocrats in high society. His knowledge in obscure magics puts him at a distinct advantage over other magicians. Of course, because of the nature of this knowledge and how he gets it,... other than letting the public be aware of the fact he exists, he mostly keeps to himself in this manor."

That much makes sense to them so far.

Brynn continues, "When I was but a naive boy, Argeld seemed to be recruiting young children with the potential to be magicians. The public didn't seem to notice that those families he bought children from usually had met with some kind of disaster until they complied. Merchants would lose business, beauties would suffer disease, healers would be poisoned, ... Argeld would come at these tragic times, offering a comfortable life for these children."

The look on their faces is enough to tell Brynn that they are disturbed at the implications.

"And these children that he acquired, I am unsure what he really did with them. During my stay at the manor, there were only two other children that I could see, despite the dozens he apparently had taken custody of. One of them quickly disappeared in my first two days there... The other was Evie, or Crow as you may have known her. She seemed to be the only constant in this place. I believe Argeld's intentions for Evie lay somewhere else. Perhaps he was avoiding using her for research so he could marry her off to a rich family, which would provide him with more funds. That's a common thing in high society, marrying for wealth. Anyway, needless to say, I escaped once I realized what he had planned for me."

Silence falls over them again as they absorb this new (for Lann and Fiona) information. Brynn focuses on the documents in archive rooms they encounter.

...

"I see now why Evie was so scared." He says unsteadily, still shaken from the revealed truths about their comatose friend, the potion maker, and the evil behind all their pains. "This is sick."

The two mercenaries are outside the room Brynn is currently in, watching the corridors for any sign of life that could mean an end to their clandestine operation. Fiona turns to Lann, eyebrows furrowed in confusion. Most people, Fiona thinks, would look at Evie and think she's actually pretty happy as long as friends are around her. 'Scared' is an adjective that is hard to pin to the perky young woman.

"What do you mean, Lann?"

Of course, Fiona couldn't have known about the Argeld incident in Colhen. She had joined the mercenary group just after Argeld's visit to the outpost. Lann explains in brief what happened that day Argeld came to Colhen looking for Evie, through his own eyes.

Fiona whistles. "She confessed to me once that she was running from something in her past, but I had no idea it could be something this complicated."

Lann looks a bit startled at hearing this. "She _told_ you? She never tells me anything!"

Fiona in turn now looks distinctly uncomfortable, if becoming any more so in this kind of place is possible. She fidgets as she rationalizes, "I don't think she even meant to tell me, Lann. She looked really upset that time, and when I confronted her, it seemed to just come out of nowhere. It wasn't even anything detailed. I just assumed it might have been either abuse, or maybe criminal in nature, and left it at that. I guess that was sort of right."

Lann seems put out, but accepting of the rationale. He doesn't have any choice, really. The only person who could tell them the truth about anything is comatose, and here they are left grasping at straws, scrabbling along the depths of an underground laboratory—illegally—to find evidence of what happened to Evie while she was in Argeld's "care".

It seems like a lot of trouble to go through, and it is, but they know that their unconscious friend would do the same. Even though they don't want to be involved with Argeld, is is a necessary evil if they want to revive their friend. They must find the information they seek at all costs.

The door behind them creaks open, startling the two mercs, and out steps Brynn holding a small wooden crate crammed full of miscellaneous objects and papers.

Interpreting this as the first good sign in a while, the awkward trio dare to share a rare smile.

"I've got it."

Tracing back their steps, they have a brief scare when human footsteps are heard approaching. Finding refuge in a different hidden passage behind a drape, they tensely wait for the person to pass so they can continue to the exit leading away from the manor.

Peaking through a sliver of space between the drape and the wall, they see who it is. Fiona, not being familiar with the face, turns to the other two with a raised eyebrow. They both nod.

_Argeld._

They still again as they hear him muttering.

"It's active. It's finally active and I can't even reach her, stupid peasants! Meddlesome mercenaries! I must have her at all costs. The window of opportunity will only stay open for so long. Perhaps I can call on some favours to have her 'removed' discretely from... Yes, I'll... send... immediate..."

Argeld's voice grows faint as he turns a corner and fades out of audible range.

A sudden urgency to return home spurs them towards the exit at a run.


End file.
